Tiberium Saga: Third Tiberian War
by Selhrac
Summary: Two world wars have left Earth in a dangerous state. The Global Defense Initiative has grown to be the only soverign nation on Earth, while the Brotherhood of Nod seeks to end their reign in the name of their Messiah and the glory of the green crystal known as Tiberium. . . And unbeknownst to them, an ancient species watches their self-destruction from afar.
1. Prologue

_**Command and Conquer: Tiberium Saga: Third Tiberium War**_

* * *

 _The inevitableness, the idealism, and the blessing of war, as an indispensable and stimulating law of development, must be repeatedly emphasized. . . War is a biological necessity of the first importance, a regulative element in the life of mankind which cannot be dispensed with. . . But it is not only a biological law but a moral obligation and, as such, an indispensable factor in civilization._

 _-Fredrich von Bernhardi, Germany and the Next War, 1914_

* * *

 _ **Prologue**_

Sergeant Charles Wolfe squinted behind his visor and stepped forward, raising his left hand as the truck approached his Zone Security checkpoint. He could see the logo on the side, belonging to a transport company that delivered meat and wheat products from the farms of what remains of northern Kentucky.

"Good mornin to ya, laddie," he called out in his Scots-Irish accent as the truck stopped with his and gave the driver a friendly smile. He was equal parts customs and immigration agent, military police, and NBC weapons specialist; and unlike frontline infantry, he wore an open-faced helmet and lighter armor of interlocking ceramic plates. His GD2 rifle hung over his shoulder by its strap, where he could still get to it quickly if need arose. Automated railgun towers and guard towers with GD12 machineguns flanked the checkpoint, which lead to a massive set of doors that were built into the wall looming overhead to separate the Blue and Yellow Zones. Two six-man squads of Zone Security troopers stood around the checkpoint, one on watch and the second manning the checkpoint itself.

"Morning," replied the truck driver, what looked like a kid barely in his twenties. The young man didn't have the look of a Yellow Zone dweller, so he's definitely a Blue Zone civie contracted out to work in the dangerous Yellow Zones. The driver held out a datapad, which showed his credentials, cargo, and destination, which Wolfe took, surprised that the man hadn't waited until he'd been asked.

"In a huray today?" he asked. His smile turned into a slight frown as he read the information. Harold Higgins, truck driver for Wilde Foods and Products, based out of Lexington. Cargo, about seven tons of meat patties, two tons of bread and other wheatstuff, along with a ton of marijuana-based products. Hemp ropes and papers were standard, but he sighed at the amount of smokable cannabis and edible hashish. _No doubt for those 'hemp brownies,'_ he thought to himself.

Private Karl Herzog circled around the side of the truck, carrying a small handheld scanner that was designed to check for tiberium infestation. The products were supposed to be processed and sealed, but the green crystal had a tendency to slip into the most unexpected of places, even on just the smallest treads of a tire. There could have been fragments of tib-rock sprouting on the vehicle at that very moment, and that would be a disaster waiting to happen.

Such were the risks of bringing anything from a Yellow Zone to a Blue Zone.

"Yeah," Higgins said, chuckling nervously. "I'm running a little late today. Had to drive around a tib-spike that used to be a fallen tree." Wolfe sympathized and nodded as he scanned the security pass. It looked like it checked out.

"We'll git ya throu' quick, then," he assured the kid, and Higgins relaxed. Couldn't blame him either, safety came first before profits in this day and age even if some business owners still thought otherwise.

As Herzog continued his inspection, Wolfe glanced back behind him, at the tunnel that passed through the immensely high wall that blocked off the eastern half of Carolina from the western half. On this side of the wall was rough land, with thick but scraggly grass rising out of yellow-brown soil, amidst weathered buildings, some fallen and collapsed, that had seen better days . . . and this was right outside the wall. He knew that some parts of Yellow Zone 6 were far worse than this.

On the other side, beyond the sonic emitters that fended off the deadly green infestation ravaging the planet, was a comparative paradise of tall buildings and thick, verdant plant life. The Blue Zones were the last refuges against the sickness that was tiberium, but they were small and scattered across the globe. For that reason, GDI defended them with a ferocity that could generously be called paranoia.

"How's it looking?" Wolfe called as Herzog circled around the truck. The tech specialist shrugged as he came about on the other side.

"Clar," he answered with his German accent strangling his latest attempt to properly speak English. "He kann go durough-" he stopped as the scanner started beeping wildly. He went to the right side of the cargo hold before the scanner started whining loudly.

"Tiberium!" he shouted, bringing up his rifle. "Two tonnen of the rot! Tib-smuggler!"

Before he could even so much as demand him to exit the vehicle, Wolfe found himself looking down the barrel of a handgun, Higgins' anxious demeanor replaced by an grim calm and cold fury.

 _"Peace through power!"_ the young man shouted, and Wolfe dove to the ground as the handgun went off. Pain exploded from his left shoulder as the round slipped through his body armor, and he swung his rifle up, depressing the trigger. A burst scythed through the driver's side door, the flimsy metal no match for a GD2 assault rifle's 6.5mm rounds, but if he hit the smuggler Wolfe couldn't tell.

More gunfire erupted from the window, and Edwards scrambled backward amidst the wild spray of desperate shots. Another round slipped through the plates and hit his right thigh. He scrambled for behind one of the concrete barriers, and could hear the deep, cracking reports of other Zone Security rifles as they fired on the truck.

The scream of the truck driver echoed in his ears, a motto he has never heard personally but recognized instantly.

Nod. Higgins was a Brotherhood agent. Even worse, he was one of their own citizens.

A moment later heat and force washed over where Higgins lay behind the concrete divider, shrapnel careening through the air and stabbing into the concrete wall. Higgins waited for the shrapnel to stop raining down, and then peeked over the barrier. The truck burned, intense heat rolling off it, alarm klaxons blaring along with the Tiberium recognition sensors. There wasn't much left of the truck, pieces of it lying around the checkpoint. To his horror, he saw Herzog and the other four troopers on the ground.

Herzog was pretty much dead, pieces of shrapnel were embedded in his torso while an oversized metal shard went through the German's visor and embedded itself in-between his eyes. As if that wasn't enough, his arms or what's left of them had to be somewhere. Wolfe hear the groans of two of his fellow squadmates, so at least they were alive somehow. The other two had to be either unconscious or dead, he can't be sure.

 _Suicide bomber,_ he realized, using his right arm to pull himself off using the barrier to situate himself. _Bastard blew himself in case he was found out, probably linked to his heartbeat._

 _Fuckin' Nod wankers._

* * *

Gray uniforms choked the entrance to the airport terminal as men and women went about their business, talking back and forth, syncing up personal computers, presenting identification to security personnel, and running errands. In the blue-white light of the room their skin tended to take on pallid hues, even the ones with darker skin tones, and combined with the gray dress uniforms it made everything seem antiseptic and unusually clean.

Battle Commander Paulo Firmina dos Reis walked across the terminal, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder as he weaved through the dozens of Global Defense Initiative soldiers milling around in the terminal. Andrews Airbase had grown to be one of the largest airfields in the world, servicing one of the most populated Blue Zones on the planet, and as such it was a hub of transit for GDI's military personnel.

Which is why Paulo had just gotten off of a V-35 Ox just minutes ago that had been ferrying a pair of fresh companies of newly minted GDI Army riflemen that were being assigned to GDI Fort Meade up north. With GDI civilian budget cutbacks on military budget and spending, many military installations that were once run by the various branches of the former United States Armed Forces have now been shut down and decommissioned or forcibly merged into joint bases. Which funny enough, Andrews Airbase was one of the latter, having absorbed the Washington Naval Air Facility.

His left wrist buzzed, barely audible through the terminal's din, and Paulo looked down at the flatscreen mounted on his left forearm as he walked. The screen was part of his Combat Computer ("Comcom" for short), a device issued to all Battle Commanders as part of their mobile command and control duties, synced to computers built into the utility belt around his waist and the implants in his skull, including his artificial eyes- relics of one of the police actions that had helped get him his current rank. The screen lit up, indicating the information he was about to receive wasn't sensitive - the built-in sensors would have transmitted the data directly to his retinas via laser otherwise.

It was a map of the terminal, and a single marked point just outside the building, which read "Sergeant Charlie Carr." With a nod, Paulo turned the screen off and passed through security, handing the fully-armed and armored guards his identification and holding out his hand for a DNA sample, followed by a retinal and vocal scan. The guards also ran a diagnostic on his Comcom to ensure it was safe. The security procedures were tight, but they were understandable considering the sophistication of the Brotherhood of Nod's infiltration and disguise techniques. Brotherhood infiltrators, especially those from Yellow Zones that used to be part of first-world countries, were equipped with nearly flawless disguises that allowed them to go completely incognito. Case in point, the leading GDI civilian director during the Rio Insurrection was indeed a Brotherhood spy (the real one having been 'disappeared' with his remains still undiscovered) which allowed Nod to not only encourage his brethren to successfully rebel in Rio, but also allowed Nod to operate with complete secrecy and impunity until he was found out.

Once his identity was confirmed, the guards sent Paulo on his way, and he stepped out of the terminal and into the open, warm spring air. The roar of an Orca's engines greeted him as a wedge of the sleek VTOL craft shot through the sky overhead, wheeling about over the landing pads to the east. Their turbofans whirled and oriented themselves with the ground, the air swirling with waves of intense thermal energy as they settled into place in precise formation, descending to the landing pads in perfect unison. Paulo strode across the road toward the location marked by the blinking light on his Comcom, where a Pitbull all-terrain recon vehicle sat. A woman with close-cropped brown hair and clad in gray garrison fatigues was waiting by the vehicle, and saluted smartly as Paulo approached.

"Sergeant Carr, I presume?" he asked with a smile and a return salute. He noticed her reaction as surprise, probably from either his dark skin pigmentation or his Brazilian accent. Probably both, but he was not one to judge as it probably was out of astonishment that a man from a Yellow Zone had achieved such a high position rather than his physical features.

"Yes sir," she replied after getting her bearings straightened. "I've been told you were needing a lift to the Pentagon?"

"It would be nice, senhora," he responded as she circled around the Pitbull. "If they gave me an office there, might as well pay a visit to it."

He opened the passenger side door of the quite frankly comical-looking vehicle. With its raised body elevated above a rugged suspension, the Pitbull resembled a child's radio-controlled car. Were it not for the quartet of twin-linked 180mm rocket launchers that were mounted on the back, the weapons guided by the advanced, miniaturized sensor suite built into the vehicle, the silliness of the design alone would rightly attract more than a few laughs from GDI military personnel which many officers and grunts were more than happy to oblige in mocking this vehicle. Despite the mockery, playful or otherwise, the Pitbull was designed as a recon and missile platform, to seek out hidden enemies and support armor and infantry in the field; as such it had built up a reputation of respect and reverence that equaled or overwhelmed its negative reception. As a bonus, outside of combat operations, many officers preferred to use its speed and mobility for other, non-combat duties.

"Perdoe-me, senhora, but why. . ." as he began to ask the awkward question of why the lady was given that name. The Sergeant anticipated his question however and politely smiled.

"My parents wanted to name their next kid after Charlie Chaplin, and it just so happened I was born a girl." She shrugged, before finishing. "At least I have a name that sounds vaguely feminine. My older sister was named Kevin for God's sakes."

"Ah, your parents must've watched that Pixar movie before giving birth to your sister," Reis inquired with utmost seriousness that Sergeant Carr busted her gut in sudden and uncontrollable laughter. An action in which Reis could not resist, and soon followed in the infectious giggling and laughing.

After letting out their last fits of laughter and getting more than a few stares, Carr settled into the driver's seat while Paulo opened the passenger's door and sat in the gunner's position next to her. After closing the door, she tapped a couple keys on the sophisticated computer system set in the dashboard front of him which opened up a hidden compartment where a trio of cables of varying size rested. He extended the medium-sized cable from the side of his Comcom to link up with the Pitbull's communications suite. The Comcom's screen flashed, and then dimmed, lasers lancing out and tracking his retinas as the Pitbull pulled out of Andrews. Words appeared in front of his eyes and his vision darkened as he linked directly to the GDI global military network. One of the dozens of local Electronic Video Agents greeted him as he logged in, and began the handshaking routine that would let him connect with the orbiting _GDSS Philadelphia_.

 **Initializing….**

…

 **Verifying Authentication.**

…

 **Login Authentication Successful.**

 _ **Philadelphia**_ **Uplink Successful.**

 **Welcome back, Commander.**

* * *

"Peace Through Power."

The greeting was simple, quick, and automatic, a motto of the righteous, and he responded immediately.

"One Vision, One Purpose," Commander Gregor Radec replied with a smile as he extended his hand. The figure before him, clad in heavy blackened armor with a ceremonial red cape behind it, stood at him a little while longer before it took off its helmet and cradled it between its left arm. Radec was surprised, but only internally, at who it, or rather, she, was.

"Brother-Commander Radec," she greeted him, shaking his offered hand.

"Sister-Major Buchanan, it's been a while," he smiled as he withdrew his hand. "It's been years since we last met."

"Time means nothing in the service of the Brotherhood, Brother-Commander Radec," replied Buchanan, smiling back. She turned and gestured behind him, down the hallway, wreathed in blood-red light, mist rising past their ankles. "Come, Commander. The meeting room is this way."

Radec nodded as they walked down the passageway, flanked by his friend. Captain Evelyn Buchanan loomed side by side with him in her black powered armor, her head shaved and her solid, yet slim features wrinkled by a smile. By comparison, Radec was also a seven footer, only the bulk being of muscle with pale skin and ruby-red eyes clad in the simple black uniform of Nod officer. The smile on his face quickly turned back into a scowl as he remembered why he was here.

"I have not been told of why I was summoned here," Radec remarked. "I would like to know what is the purpose for this meeting." The semi-formal speech patterns were uncomfortable to him, but that was due to him being bluntly honest, brutally so at times. He got used to talking like this, especially since one did not speak casually in public within a temple of any kind. Tradition and all. But he'd be glad to be outside a holy place as soon as he could be.

Buchanan sighed. "I'm afraid I don't know the details either, if that is what you sought," she answered before she shrugged, her cape rippling. They passed by a prayer room, dozens of acolytes seated around a holographic projector that was displaying General Kilian Qatar, giving her famous "Origins of Nod" speech. On a trio of television screens, it showed the progress of the green crystal on the planet's surface with the percentages. Sure enough, 20% of the Earth's surface were covered in blue while 30% of the surface have been rendered uninhabitable to carbon-based lifeforms. The remaining 50% were colored yellow and Radec knew that is what the Brotherhood controls. _With a few exceptions,_ he added internally.

"You have seen it yourself though, have you not?" Buchanan asked. "The preparations are well underway, and doubtless your summons have been made as part of the greater plan."

"I will admit that I managed to notice the troops massing here," Rawne said, eyes forward toward his objective and not looking at his companion. "More and more vehicles as well. Even leftovers from the Global Liberation War are being reactivated."

"Indeed, with many more being amassed elsewhere," Buchanan replied. She smiled at him again, internally saddened by his lack of change of expression.

"But I would like to know what is my role in this plan," Radec growled. "I do not like my purpose being kept in the dark from me."

"You are anxious, Brother," Buchanan sighed, "but you will know your place in this scheme soon enough." The Black Hand took off her left gauntlet and extended her hand, the glittering, green tattoo of inert Tiberium that engulfed her fingers shining in the red light. Laser scanners played over the complex weave of crystalline filaments carefully woven into her flesh. Radec did the same after her with his right hand instead, inert Tiberium crystals being briefly shown when his hand was scanned. The door wooshed open and both proceeded forward.

The room beyond was a chapel, and the ankle-high mist in the corridor outside rose to waist-height, and glowed pink in the red lighting. Radec stepped forward, and noticed that Buchanan had stayed behind, her head lowered slightly as she stayed in the doorway. Radec froze to look back at her.

"You do not wish to accompany me any further?" he asked her. "Perhaps we have grown further apart than I remembered."

"I'm afraid this is as far I am allowed to escort you, Brother," Buchanan answered, her head still lowered and not making eye-contact. "Do not think less of me for this."

"Understood. Fare well, Sister Buchanan," he softly addressed her as he continued forward down the hall.

"By the way, the armor is surprisingly light! You should try it some time!" Radec only smiled as he heard her call him out before arrived to his destination.

To his left were long rows of pews and seats, enough for hundreds of Nod worshippers, but no one was seated in the metal chairs. To his right, before high red and white stained glass windows, were a trio of data screens, rising out of the ground in man-height obelisk-shaped mounts, projecting lines of holy Nod texts in the archaic script of the Brotherhood.

The chamber was empty, and Radec walked toward the center of the room, wondering why he had been summoned to the chapel.

"And he cried in a loud voice: _Lazarus, come forth_!"

The sound shook Radec, and he stood stock still even with his face unchanged. He listened, but still not believing what he was hearing. The words, the _voice_ echoed in his ears, a familiar tone he had heard countless times, but always recorded and artificial. This voice was real, and it was _here_ , in _this_ room.

There was movement to his right, behind the obelisks, and Radec looked around, awe and gratitude filling his body as he laid eyes on the figure who emerged, framed by the brilliant light streaming from the stained glass. Even as his face and demeanor remain unchanged, it was only just as his body struggled to stay standing from having seen _The Messiah_ himself in the flesh.

"And Lazarus _did_ arise from the grave."

His smile sent shivers of emotion flowing through the Commander, and Radec finally caved in, dropped to his knees, and lowered his head as he saw the father and the _Messiah_ of the Brotherhood of Nod, and the one who was destined to lead the world into the golden age of Tiberium.

 _Kane._

Radec was speechless for the first few moments. During his time within Global Defense Initiative's ranks, he had been convinced that Kane was finally dead, Commander Michael McNeil even boasting about how he had stabbed the revered figure in his heart with a Tiberium spike. Just like the other GDI grunts, Radec cheered and enjoyed his superior's tale. But that was then, before the GDI higher-ups had decided that he and his fellows were no longer needed and had decided to give them "honorable discharge" before sending them to the hellhole formerly known as Brazil. The rage and hatred that followed the betrayal were the only things that had kept him and his fellows alive.

And then the Rio Insurrection happened. . . He did not know who, or why it happened, but he and his comrades took it upon themselves to join the rebelling citizenry and cast his betrayers out into the seas. . . One of water, and one of their own blood.

This was far too surreal. . . He was being spoken to, personally, in the flesh itself, by _Kane himself_.

"Rise, my son, and look upon me," Kane spoke, and Radec slowly raised his head to gaze up toward the messiah, who regarded him with a gentle, understanding smile. He was bald unlike Radec's shaven head, and his mouth wreathed with a close but thick mustache and goatee, perfectly trimmed and immaculate. Kane's dark eyes glittered with unfathomable intelligence and unshakable faith and generosity, and his voice echoed of knowledge, mercy, and benevolence that knew no bounds.

Kane raised his hands slightly, and Radec understood his intention. Slowly, he rose to his feet, to face the messiah as an equal.

"I have always believed that faith was measured in deeds, not words," Kane explained as he stepped closer, "and while many of my children worshipped my name, their deeds betrayed them."

Radec nodded, Kane's words striking a chord within his own consciousness, as if he knew the Commander down to his heart and soul. It was chilling and yet liberating at the same time.

"In my absence, they strayed from the path, but you, my son, your faith never wavered," Kane continued, his smile growing. "Not in Honduras or Jericho, or in the great Rio Insurrection. You risked your life countless times to topple GDI, to perpetuate our cause...to honor my name."

Radec nearly choked, for at that moment Kane _bowed his head_ to him, for only an instant, his gratitude nearly making the soldier's legs go weak. That _Kane himself_ would acknowledge his actions as such was an honor he could scarcely believe, and Rawne honestly felt he didn't deserve, and yet it had been placed upon him by their messiah.

"Y-, Your Eminence," Radec tried to begin, but the knot in his throat prevented him from further speaking.

"Now, my child," Kane soothed, "I am well aware of your past allegiance to GDI. Which is why your deeds bring me much honor and gratitude, for your eyes have seen what those beings can and will do. . . And yet, here you stand before me as an equal partner in this grand scheme than as an enemy." Radec raised his head, unaware that he had bowed his head while the Messiah talked to him.

"Now, my son," he said, raising his eyes to meet Radec's once more. "I must ask you to once more bring glory to the Brotherhood. I have seen that GDI has grown vulnerable, bloated by years of arrogance, hypocrisy, and complacency. Now, is the time to strike! While they congratulate themselves on Tiberium advancements Nod made _decades_ ago, we will expose their weaknesses for all the world to see!"

As Kane spoke, his words came faster, with fury and passion and conviction, and Radec felt himself being lifted up and carried by the messiah's emotions. The anger and contempt rang in his voice as he spoke of casting down the corrupt Global Defense Initiative, the heathens and infidels that fought against the glory of Nod and the truth that was Tiberium. Once he was part of that very group, but his actions since Rio have demonstrated his trustworthiness to the Messiah himself.

"What do you ask of me?" Radec asked, and Kane's anger faded, replaced by a sudden, understanding smile.

"You will go to one of our forward bases on the North American East Coast: a small camp has been established about a mile out from Goddard Space Center," Kane explained. "One of my intelligence agents, Ajay, will brief you. Like you, his faith is unquestioned."

Radec bowed again, and Kane gestured toward the entrance of the chapel.

"Go now, my son," he commanded, and Radec straightened. "More glory than you can possibly imagine awaits us, but only if you succeed in the mission I have laid out for you."

"What is this mission?" Rawne asked, curious as to what his leader would have tasked him with.

"The first shots of the Third Tiberium War, my son," Kane replied, his smile wide and genuine. Three seconds of further silence went between them, but for Radec it felt like eternity.

"As you wish." Radec bowed again before turning his back towards Kane and walked back out the chapel, in what would be his gateway of destiny. . .

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Hello everyone, I am back. Its been a while hasn't it? 4 years and some months is a very long time. Long story short: life took precedence. I have a job of 17 months now and I'm trying my license now that I have my permit again.**

 **Yes, this is my attempt at recreating Peptuck's Tiberium Wars. As some of you may notice, most of the scenes and dialogue are almost completely ripped off from his early chapters. That's because they are, tbh. I intended to get permission to take his first two chapters, but then I decided: why not copy-paste and just give due credit to others like you do with quotes on essays?**

 **And that's what basically happened: copy-and-paste. Well, not completely at least. Some of the characters have definitely been changed and the dialogue have some changes to them. The commanders are definitely different and their personalities can already be guessed.**

 **As for my explaination (not a justification, I will respect Peptuck's wishes and rework the chapter if he feels it so), the thing about his early chapters is that its so organic in a sense that I can see this actually happening in the Tiberium verse that I feel there's no other version of a beginning that's more superior than Peptuck's. I have tried countless times on my spare time prior to come up with a prologue that's more or less equal to his. Needless to say, all of them came off clinical and boring. So I thought, why not copy and paste his chapters? They sound exciting!**

 **So if you're still out there Peptuck, thank you for letting me basically take your first two chapters and reworking them.**

 **Now for the official whoopla, credit for the first two chapters goes to Peptuck. And credit goes to Electronic Arts Los Angeles for making Command & Conquer 3: Tiberium Wars and Kane's Wrath.**

 **As for the readers, I intend to make my version of Tiberium Wars just as realistic and horrible as real-life war can be. So do not expect Call of Duty style deaths and melodrama, people will die by the droves while others will be left behind.**


	2. Chapter 1: Dense

_**Command and Conquer: Tiberium Saga: Third Tiberium War**_

* * *

 _"Complacency. That's what's killing mankind right now. Not tiberium, not starvation, not war or pestilence or any of the other horsemen. It's that fundamental human nature that makes us stick our heads in the dirt and pretend everything is fine. We're not going to go extinct because of tiberium, we're going to go extinct because humans are dumb, prideful, and panicky animals. In essence, we're over-glorfied dumbasses...and we pride ourselves on it."_

 _-Colonel Nick "Havoc" Parker (retired)_

* * *

 ** _Chapter I: Dense_**

"You've never been to Washington, have you, sir?" Carr asked, to which Paulo shook his head absentmindedly as he looked over the latest intelligence reports, dated earlier today, June 17th, 2047. The Pitbull rolled over the highway bridge crossing the Potomac River, traveling northeast.

As his responsibility entailed handling all of the Eastern Seaboard of North America, he needed to be up to date on what was happening across the entire Zone. There were a few civil incidents in the Blue Zone: minor labor strikes in Detroit and Chicago, some protests (authorized and otherwise) in Quebec City, brawls in Nova Scotia over amendments to mandated safety protocols regarding local freshwater fishing, and an internal investigation of Atlantic City's City Council. However, there was nothing major - certainly nothing worth noting regarding the local military forces. There were a few intelligence reports flagged as high priority, but his uplink in the Pitbull wasn't secure enough to access them here. The gist of it, though, was that Nod's threat level had been downgraded to Low, which meant GDI's Intelligence Operations felt that there was little to no threat now.

"Never, senhora," Ruis answered quickly, feeling embarrassed that he had let his driver's question go unanswered for some time. For her part, Carr took it in stride as she realized that the Commander had just finished reading over all the information allowed under the unsecured network and closing the programs. "Been to B-6 once," he continued, "but I was posted in B-13 to help the Area Commander mediate the troubles over there."

"Wow, West Africa," Carr whispered, a bit astonished. "And B-6 is Chile and Argentina."

"Correto," Ruis replied. "Blue Zone 13 kind of reminded me of home in Brasil."

"Oh," Carr apologized. "I didn't mean to. . ."

"Do not apologize, senhora Carr," Ruis replied. "It was much better under your administration's rule: food, electricity, clean and running water, and some actual hospitals." He paused, checking on the alerts that were uploaded onto his Comcom only to see that they were minor traffic alerts and ignored them. "Plus, the people in Blue Zone 13 can finally make a decent living there. Not a lot of tribal rivalries anymore when you have troops of different nationalities keeping the peace, though I suppose the threat of moving them elsewhere is a tad-"

"Totalitarian?" Carr answered.

"A tad, yes."

"GDI had to do whatever was necessary to keep old world tensions from breaking this new age," Carr answered as they entered the Central, or Downtown District of Washington, D.C.

"Indeed. _"_ Ruis shook his head. " _Ordem e Progresso_ was my country's motto. For what's it worth, GDI made it possible to have both, even if sacrifices of liberty had to be made."

"Yep, its unfortunate, but GDI can't administer the world like its a mega-USA," Carr sighed. "Too many people using 'freedom' and 'liberty' as a way to join the Brotherhood. Not to mention some of insane or depraved things people did, especially during 2016."

"Indeed, my parents would tell mostly horror stories about that year," Pablo mused. "Oh well, perhaps on another universe, where the Earth is not plagued by Tiberium."

"And idiots," Carr added. "But yes, I would go there in a heartbeat."

"So would I, senhora," Pablo smiled back in return.

"Maybe someday, you and I can have lunch," Carr joked.

"Is that a date you are asking me out on?" retorted Pablo, which sent the two into a fit of giggles and laughter.

The Pitbull rolled down the streets of downtown Washington D.C. Gleaming towers dominated the skyline, set among vast, open parks filled with green plants, jealously guarded by GDI's environmentalist corps due to the steady decline of plant life in the rest of the world. The occasional slender Tiberium containment tower could be seen here and there, positioned over underground deposits of the valuable crystalline cancer, harvesting and processing it for use.

Clouds, blue skies, and buildings were reflected in the surface of streets that appeared to be made of polished glass - in reality a super-dense and highly durable composite material that made the asphalt of the last century look like wet mud. Sleek cars lined the roads, and buses and electric trains rolled through the city while sidewalks and crossings were choked with the constant movement of pedestrian traffic. There were people everywhere, thanks to the enormous population density of the Blue Zones.

Washington D.C. had, only a few decades ago, been the capital of the United States of America. The unstoppable spread of Tiberium since the first meteor impacts in 1995 had eventually overwhelmed most governments; the USA was no exception. Between the atmospheric poisoning, ecological damage, rampant genetic mutation, and the constant struggles between armies increasingly polarized between the United Nations' Global Defense Initiative and the Brotherhood of Nod, previous political structures and governments had collapsed. Only the Global Defense Initiative and the Brotherhood of Nod had survived the relatively swift and brutal collapse of the old world order due to their size, military power, and geographically limitless nature, and the Brotherhood's sound defeat in the Second Tiberium War in 2029 followed by Nod infighting after the Firestorm Crisis had left GDI the sole intact superpower.

As local and national governments fell apart, GDI troops moved in to restore order and rescue those they could reach, but with Tiberium's never ending spread, only so much could be salvaged. The 23 Blue Zones, covering barely twenty percent of the planet, had either been previously untouched by the crystalline cancer or was successfully fought back and converted back into habitable territory. And it was in these Blue Zones that what remained of civilized life and society endured under GDI's close protection, a fact that hasn't gone unnoticed amongst segments of the population that were wary if not hostile to "big government."

Another fifty percent of the planet was taken up by Yellow Zones, areas ravaged by Tiberium. Disease, inability to replace or create infrastructure, and the social and political chaos that wracked these regions rule these parts. The Global Defense Initiative held territory in these zones, but those regions were far more dangerous and lawless. Anywhere GDI couldn't impose order, the Brotherhood of Nod crept in and dominated, either openly or from the shadows. Ruis could name at least three 'nation-states' off the top of his head that are in fact Brotherhood fronts.

The other thirty percent of the planet were Red Zones, and were inhospitable to baseline organic life. Life was tough in a Yellow Zone, with the chaotic weather patterns, constant civil war, and the ever-present Tiberium. Red Zones, on the other hand, were dominated by Tiberium, with the crystal transforming the landscape into alien expanses of immense green and blue, sometimes orange and purple, crystal monoliths, with broken ground and raging ion storms amidst the thrashing winds and ferocious, unnatural Tiberium-based lifeforms. Nothing human, or animal - or at least, nothing _originally_ human or animal - could live in a Red Zone, and those Zones slowly expanded every year without fail.

"The Pentagon is just up ahead, sir," Carr said as they crossed into Arlington Memorial Bridge, breaking Ruis out of his thoughts. The Commander looked up to the northwest as they continued across the river. The command center was visible ahead, largely unchanged from its original design, although the structure was surrounded by a wide defensive perimeter of concrete walls and automated guard towers. From the highway he could see the power plant complex to the south of the main building, a line of low bunkers with cooling towers holding the generators that fueled the complex. Carr maneuvered the Pitbull along a restricted-access road that was used exclusively by GDI traffic, pausing only to show her credentials to the armed checkpoint at the downgrade. GDI soldiers wearing the distinct black and grey armor of the regiment assigned to defend the Pentagon checked over her information and waved them through.

The Pentagon had once been the United States' center of military command, but as the USA had taken a leading role since the First Tiberium War, contributing over thirty percent of the total troops to the Global Defense Initiative, the Pentagon had steadily gone from being an American military center to a GDI operations center. And this became the norm up until the conclusion of the Global Liberation War.

Following the conclusion of the Second Tiberium War and CABAL's engineered Firestorm Crisis, GDI ecologists and scientists began to successfully reclaim the Maryland-Virginia region from Tiberium infestation with the Pentagon one of the few structures untouched. With the former Virginian county of Arlington now incorporated into Washington DC proper along with several former counties and cities from the states of Maryland and Virginia, the Pentagon was refurbished with new equipment and is now the primary command and control center for the North American Blue Zones. After that came the _Southern Cross_ command center, the 'frontlines' post when GDI was at an actual war. And in the improbable, if not outright impossible, case of both command centers falling, there was the emergency command and control bunkers in Reykjavík, Iceland, or Blue Zone 15 as it is known now. Other command centers, such as the _Hammerfest_ Army base in Norway of Second Tiberiun War fame and infamy, as well as 'Old Order' command centers such as the Kremlin, serve as command centers for B-3, Europe, or at least the reclaimed northern half of the continent. Other Blue Zones had their own command centers, to ensure that they weren't just ordered and dominated by their North American and European counterparts. In turn, those centers paled in comparison to the _GDSS Philadelphia_ , the de-facto capital of GDI's international state and new world order.

The Pitbull stopped outside the gates of the Pentagon, under the watchful eyes of dozens of heavily-armed soldiers and a pair of automated railgun towers. The hulking shapes of a squadron of Zone Troopers were visible, clad in heavy powered armor that made them seem twice the size of a human, and holding immense coil-driven railguns that would have been fixed emplacements for normal soldiers.

Scanners rolled over the vehicle, ensuring it had no unusual cargo, and GDI troops circled it, checking with mirrors, hand-held scanners, and guard dogs. Once the vehicle checked out, they waved them through the checkpoint, and Carr drove the transport through the gateway and into one of the covered parking garages outside the Pentagon.

"An excellent drive, Sergeant," Ruis offered with a smile, stepping out of the transport and smoothing down his uniform.

"Thank you, sir," the sergeant answered back with a smile, and Ruis grabbed his bag and started inside, not wanting to be late for his first meeting with General Jack Granger. It wouldn't give a good impression on the boss if the new Battle Commander for Blue Zone Two area was late.

* * *

Radec had seen Blue Zones before -he used to live in one after all- so he was not terribly impressed with the opulence of the sheep that lived in these areas; all of the shining streets and towering skyscrapers and pristine houses earned from him was scorn. However, he did find himself envious of the limitless green plant life. In the Yellow Zones, open farmland was scarce and overworked, with many of the crops that Nod grew contained in sealed greenhouse complexes. Wild plant life still flourished, but it was often merely scrub and grassland. Here, plants were a luxury made petty by their common nature. Radec privately admitted that GDI's insistence at planting local flora rather than those that simply looked pretty helped keep the Blue Zone's ecology from falling apart.

But what galled Radec the most was not the opulence or the beauty. It was their _hypocrisy_. All of this wealth and power were built off of exploiting Tiberium, using it to power their industries, supply their raw materials, to substitute for the rare-earth elements to build their advanced technologies. Yet GDI claimed that their objective was to contain and eradicate the sacred crystal to protect humanity from the sickness. Somehow, that didn't stop their armies and crude harvesting vehicles from gathering Tiberium in vast quantities to fuel their economies. At least the Brotherhood had the decency to openly accept the crystal they used to better their lives even if the majority of their territories remained impoverished, overground anyway.

The many forests GDI had planted in the Blue Zones offered the Brotherhood plenty of cover to operate, particularly for the company-sized detachment that was carrying out Radec's mission. A small clearing for the light, quick Carryalls that would carry their troops was all that was required, and in the middle of the impromptu landing pad was a command tent. The interior was clogged with tables, mobile computers, and communications gear, and Radec plopped himself down into a plastic folding chair, reviewing the intelligence data on Goddard Space Center. A moment later a shadow appeared at one of the tent's entrances, resolving itself into the form of a tall, muscular man with shoulder-length, dirty blond hair and a short, scraggly mustache and beard. He was clad in nondescript brown and tan fatigues.

"So, you're the one everyone's been talking about?" he asked, grinning, his voice faintly tinged with an Australian accent. "The legendary insurgent: Commander Radec."

"And you must be Ajay, right?" Radec replied, and the man nodded.

"Hope you're as good as they say you are, Commander," he remarked sitting down opposite from Radec. "Cause we're throwing you right in the fryin' pan. Take a look." He turned and tapped a couple of keys on the computer behind him, and the screen lit up, showing aerial views of the military complex two kilometers east of their base. Radec checked the basic layout: Tall security walls around the complex, barracks complex to the south, motor pool on the west, office buildings in the center, and a smaller complex in the north with a single large structure sprouting several communications dishes and heavy security.

"This is Goddard Space Center, just a couple klicks east of Greenbelt, Maryland," he explained, and Radec nodded, the images matching those on his own Comcom. "Control center for all of GDI's anti-missile capability. You're gonna take a small team and wipe out the entire installation, take it off-line."

The view on the computer shifted to show an antenna farm on the south side of the compound.

"Basic operation plan is simple," Ajay continued, "Take out the communications first so they can't call for help. Then go dynamic and do that _nasty_ thing you do." Judging by Ajay's expression, he looked like he anticipated what was going to happen in the next hour. Radec continued to listen.

"This," Ajay added, pointing the large structure festooned with comms equipment on the north side of the complex, "is the primary target. I've got two squads of Shadows pulled from 902nd Special Operations ready to hit it. They just need someone to prep the field."

"Garrison strength?" Radec asked as he plotted out some details.

"Company-level, maybe five or six platoons," Ajay replied. "That's the actual armed guard force. Maybe twice that many desk-troopers and civilian contractors. Not much in the way of heavy armor, but they've got some Pitbulls, a couple of Guardians and maybe some Predators," he shrugged. "Mostly fixed-defense orientation with a lot of gun emplacements and automated guard towers. Set up to stop insurgency ops."

"Like this one," Radec muttered. "Reinforcements? Quick-reaction force?"

"Nearest fast response is stationed a few kilometers away," Ajay said, pointing to a couple of spots on the map indicating the nearest GDI military bases. "Someone hits the panic button, we can expect a couple of companies' worth of trouble in Ox birds and Hammerheads. Battalion-sized response in thirty."

"Which is why taking out that communications facility is a priority," Radec said with a nod. The response speed shouldn't have surprised him. This was the heart of one of the largest and best-defended Blue Zones on the planet. "We won't be able to stop hardline calls, though. Estimate time. . . Taking out the comms facility might buy us an extra ten to fifteen minutes?"

"Sounds about right, yeah," Ajay replied with a nod.

"Huh, is that all," Radec mused. His former comrades-in-arms are really slacking in security and defenses. "Did Kane say what this mission was for?" He asked, curious, though he knew that taking down GDI's anti-missile defense systems and satellite control network would cause unending problems for the heathens.

"Wish I could tell you what Kane's got planned," Ajay replied with a shake of his head, "but then I'd have to kill you." He paused, and the smile that popped up on the soldier's face told Radec the truth.

"Just kiddin'. But seriously, I envy you, Brother," he remarked. "World's gonna change, and you're gonna be right there in the thick of it. Its an exciting time to be Nod. If you need me in there, I got'ch your back."

"Don't worry, Ajay," Radec replied, leaning forward. "With the assets I've been given, I doubt I'll need much external help."

"That's good to hear," Ajay said with a grin. "Let's get this party started, huh?"

* * *

Patience was necessary when working in high-level GDI command centers. Paranoia was a healthy mindset when dealing with the Brotherhood, especially when dealing with those working in the Blue Zones. Stringent and redundant security to screen out Nod infiltration meant that Ruis had to wade through at least seven checkpoints between the outermost ring of the Pentagon and the bunker at the core of the building where all of GDI's North American operations were handled. Like most GDI government buildings, the blue-gray antiseptic lighting was dominant, and it washed out the coloration of the gray-uniformed personnel moving through the offices and command rooms. A constant low-hum of working computers and continuous beeping of displays and consoles cut under the buzz of conversation from the officers and enlisted. Ruis saw that a number of the displays were uplinks to the _GSS Philadelphia_ and the attached ion cannon and space-to-surface deployment assets, all filtered through the main relay and control network at Goddard.

Ruis had learned to deal with the incessant noise long ago and it bothered him little as he walked down the corridors and entered the heart of the Pentagon's command center, an inauspicious room nearly a kilometer underground, choked with desks and free-standing monitors on large, skeletal metal frames. The Commander made his way across the gray-walled chamber, weaving around metal desks with working intelligence analysts, and headed for the far end of the of the control room. A single desk was set against a window that looked out over an underground chasm and a series of walkways beyond that led to other areas of the secure underground bunker. Behind the desk was a heavy-set, balding officer with General's stars on his uniform vest.

He was working with scowling intent on his personal laptop as Reis approached. The Commander paused a few steps away from the desk and went silent, waiting until the General noted his presence. It took a couple of seconds of loitering before the officer noted the man standing in front of his desk.

"Ah, Commander," he said, tapping a button on his laptop and locking it, before rising stepping around the desk. "Lieutenant General Jack Granger, glad to have you on board."

Granger wasted no time with greetings or pleasantries, and didn't bother with salutes or hand gestures. He instead snatched up a small remote and stepped across the room toward one of the display screens, moving with the intentional energy of a man who had a lot to do and not enough time for it all. A video appeared on the screen, showing what looked like a civilian transport truck erupting into flames, along with a few bodies strung across the checkpoint.

"These are . . . interesting times," Granger remarked, almost to himself, and then glanced back toward Reis.

"I don't know if you know it yet, but InOps has downgraded Nod's threat level to 'Low.' With Kane apparently dead," Ruis swore he heard the word _again_ from the General's breath, "Nod has been hit by internal power struggles. Recruitment's down twenty-five percent, and they've abandoned four bases in the last year."

He rattled off the facts with an air of skepticism as he started pacing back around in front of his desk, like a hungry predator that couldn't find any meat.

"The _prediction_ is another decade of peace," Granger added, pausing, and shaking his head. "Me, I don't believe it."

Ruis immediately decided that he liked Granger, because he obviously recognized just how unreliable intelligence tended to be. If Nod's threat level to GDI was 'Low,' that was because the Brotherhood wanted it to stay that way. The Battle of San Vincente proved that much to him.

Not to mention that the Commander found his blunt, direct manner of speaking refreshing. Too many GDI officers were concerned with politics and "playing nice" lately. As far as Ruis was concerned, they needed more men like the retired General Cortez, or the legendary commando Captain "Havoc" Parker and the declassified special ops team Dead Six. Men and women who had been in the thick of the fighting with Nod and knew what war angainst the Brotherhood truly was.

"What makes you think that, sir?" Ruis asked, to which Granger shrugged, his rigid uniform vest rising with the motion. It was at that moment that Paulo realized Granger was the only man wearing the low-grade uniform flak vest in the room, as if he was expecting trouble. Judging by the way he moved and spoke, Ruis suspected that General Jack Granger _always e_ xpected trouble.

"Well, Nod has always survived through the use of Tiberium," Granger replied. "Its like some damn stim drug that they stick in whenever they start hurting, and it pops them right back up on their feet. In twenty-eight years of fighting Nod, there's one thing I can say with absolute certainty, and that's that as long as Tiberium is on Earth, Nod is a serious threat. If our intelligence says otherwise, its because Nod wants us to take them off our radar."

Ruis agreed with that. InOps had been giving reports of little to no overt activity by the Brotherhood, which made Granger, and by extension Ruis, nervous. Even after the First Tiberian War had ended, the Brotherhood remained active, even giving its wealth, materials, and expertise to the Islamic-dominated Global Liberatiom Army, and constant clashes before and after the collapse of the old world order had been a fact of life for most of the first third of the 21st century. Not even the temporary truce during the war against the mad artificial intelligence CABAL had dulled the Brotherhood's desire for blood in the years afterward.

"Now, something interesting popped up yesterday," Granger added, walking across the room, back toward the screen. The video of the truck exploding replayed once more. "This was taken in eastern North Carolina. Zone Security stopped what looked like a produce delivery truck yesterday, but it turned out to be a Nod vehicle. Before it could be searched, the driver blew it up, along with a few of our Zone Security Officers and himself. I want you to take some troops down there, see what you can turn up. Hopefully I'm wrong, and this is just a false alarm . . . ."

Granger paused as a woman with Lieutenant's insignia stepped in from behind him and paused beside the General, but he resumed speaking a moment later. Ruis didn't hear much of what he said, as his attention shifted more to the Lieutenant. She was slender, clad in the dark gray uniform of a GDI InOps officer, with long black hair that was slightly past regulation length. What caught the Commander's eyes the most were her features, for she was striking by even the best standards, with Asian features that he suspected to be of Korean origin.

Granger finally noticed that Ruis was distracted by the newcomer, and gestured toward her with some indignation.

"This is Lieutenant Sandra Telfair, InOps," he explained. "Lieutenant, this is Battle Commander Paulo Firmina dos Reis."

"Please, Paulo de Reis is fine," the Commander suggested.

"Ah, well, that's makes it easier," the General nodded. "Commander, the Lieutenant will give you all the details on the mission. Lieutenant?"

"Thank you," Sandra said, her voice quiet and soft for a military officer. She offered Ruis a welcoming smile as she stepped across the room toward a desk.

"Good afternoon, Commander," she spoke as she settled into her chair, and Ruis took a seat across from her. "Here's what we know so far." With a tap of her keyboard, the screen on the wall shifted, showing a map of the Carolinas region. Karrde's Comcom buzzed as it began downloading a copy of the data. The western end of the former state was highlighted in yellow, with the site of the detonation pinpointed along the border.

"After the delivery truck incident," she explained, "We turned Sky Sentry onto the area. We picked up a high output, sub-terra energy grid in the middle of _nowhere_."

"Nod bunkers," Ruis said out loud, and Sandra nodded. The screen shifted to show the levels of energy being emitted by the source, and from what he could tell, it was consistent with large Nod weapons' stores and underground factories. The Brotherhood had a thing for subterranean war factories, and it looked like they had multiple such structures on hand in the area. And having a base this close to a Blue Zone was bad news, no matter how one spun things.

"Obviously, Nod's up to no good," Sandra added, and Ruis nodded. "But there is some good news; your ace in the hole is an old base we have in the region. We abandoned it several years ago, but all indications are that the facility is still intact. Bring it back online and you should be able to recon the entire area." Sandra paused for an instant, her features shifting to reflect concern.

"My advice is to engage the enemy only if necessary; there's no telling what those maniacs are hiding out there."

"I agree," Ruis said quietly. He'd been on the front lines of the Rio Insurrection. He knew what the Brotherhood could manage if they got enough support. This base could be the staging ground for any number of raids or incursions into B-2.

"What kind of units will I have on this operation?" Ruis asked. It was a valid question, considering his rank. Battle Commanders were not assigned to a single unit. They were regional commanders tasked with carrying out vital operations, and used what they had available.

"We've got a few Recon battalions available for deployment," Telfair said, checking her laptop. "Nearest is from the 4th Battalion of the 103rd Recon Division out of Langley. There is a fully-armed Recon battalion ready. There's also the 30th Marines Commando Unit out of the McEntire Joint Services Airbase, but it make take some persuasion from the local Marine commanders. Our liaison should be able to get you any air or orbital support you need for the operation as well."

"What else can you give me about Nod troop movements in the area?" Ruis asked. "Any estimate on enemy force concentration?"

"A base of that size?" Telfair said, frowning. She shook her head. "They could have a couple of heavy battalions in there, underground. Possibly an entire division." She nodded toward his Comcom. "Everything we've gathered over the last few weeks on Nod movements in the Carolinas has been uploaded. It's not much to go with, I'm sorry."

"It'll be enough," Ruis said, standing. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

* * *

Three hundred men and women were given the task. Kane had sent Sister-Major Buchanan to the staging area, and she had hand-picked each soldier and martyr personally to carry out the mission. Radec was glad for his friend's presence; while Radec was personable, it would've been difficult to convince three hundred men and women to give their lives in what looks like a suicidal mission.

Radec spent the two hours leading up to the operation meeting with each team leader, discussing the plans and operations for each unit. Guerilla warfare demanded that one operate with limited resources, and make the maximum use out of each unit under one's command. Commander Radec had a strong, versatile force, though he admitted that he would likely not see many of them again. That was a bloody necessity for this mission: every man and woman had to be devoted and willing to lay his/her life down for the Brotherhood, as the assault on Goddard Space Center would be a one-way strike into the heart of a Blue Zone.

Roughly half his force were regular soldiers of the Brotherhood: light infantry armed with assault rifles and rocket launchers, wearing flak vests, fatigues, even tattered combat uniforms, and either hoods or light helmets. Radec even noted some the patches and insignias on some of the uniforms: thirteen militia members were either Texas National Guard or were pilfered from those who were. A few were former Canadian Army, and some of the tattooed Mexican militia indicated they were from the completely defunct Zeta cartel. The ones carrying QBZ-95s were definitely former Chinese PLA, and there were a few RUF and LRA guerrillas in the mix carrying various AKs.

These soldiers were recruited from the vast, disaffected populations of the Yellow Zones, indoctrinated with the Brotherhood's beliefs, and many injected with Tiberium cocktails that were slowly mutating their bodies. And because of their various national origins, the Brotherhood was only too happy to get their hands on the various blueprints for their small arms.

The remainder were much more devoted soldiers who were, in all honesty, suicide bombers. They were laden with heavy Tiberium-based explosive charges, carrying machine pistols to suppress the enemy, and augmented with borderline psychotic fanaticism. They were furiously reading their copies of the sacred texts, reciting litanies, oaths, and prayers as they boarded the transports near the staging area in the woods near Goddard Space Center.

"Were all of us as devoted," remarked Buchanan as he watched the fanatics hurry toward their doom, many of them injecting themselves with Tiberium-based psychoactive drugs. Radec simply watched, nodding. A small part of him envied these men, so pure in their devotion. Then the majority of his mind reminded him why he despised such a waste of such good men and women. Such _jihadists_ were often recruited from the very fragile and fluid borders that separates the Yellow Zones from the Red ones. These men amd women who had lived so close to Tiberium that it was their very lives, and they had such miserable lives that the Brotherhood was the only light in their lives. Such simplistic minds were easy to fill with true faith. But Radec believed these soldiers were more useful alive as Shadow commandos, Black Hand acolytes, snipers, or even more militiamen, not as suicidal martyrs.

Aside from the bombers, there were a small number of elite Nod commandos: Ajay's Shadow infiltrators, who would be using the chaos of the battle to strike a surgical blow that would cripple the enemy. They were a stiletto, poised and ready to slip in and slice the enemy's throat. Goddard Space Center was well-defended, and it would be up to them to break those defenses.

There were also a pair of Saboteurs, who almost look like cyborg astronauts. While GDI and the Brotherhood made good use of combat engineers to take over buildings built by the other side, the pair looked to be more like demolition experts than hackers who would convert infidel buildings for use by the Brotherhood. Each carried what looked like a cross between a backpack and satchel, filled with all kinds of explosives from simple IEDs and door breachers to military-grade building demolition charges.

"Are our troops prepared?" Radec asked as he walked toward the command tent, and Buchanan nodded. "Good. Onwards, for _Kane_." As the troops began to load up into the 'borrowed' Orca Caryalls, Rawne slipped inside the command tent and sat down next to Ajay, who grinned as he prepared the tactical holographic fields. Rawne slipped his hands over the tactical controls, and Ajay watched intently as the Commander ran over the reports from each of the units preparing their attack and interfaced his Comcom with the display.

"Never seen a Commander like you in action," he remarked. "This is going to be something beautiful."

"You have no idea, Ajay," Radec whispered with indifference, hiding a darkly gleeful feeling of what is yet to come. As they heard the VTOL transports take off, Radec could only wait in anticipation of what is yet to come. Kane had something incredible planned, he could feel it, and like Ajay had said, he would be the one to make it all happen. . . .

* * *

"Quinn, get up! We called up, actual mission this time!"

Corporal Evelyn Quinn glanced up from her touchpad, smiling, and she rose, grabbing her fatigues and throwing them on. The words sank into her mind, and her heart began to soar. She finished putting on her garrison uniform on when the intercoms squawked for everyone to move double time.

It was one thing to be on duty, which for Quinn and her fellow recon troopers of the 103rd Recon Division, 4th Battalion, generally meant sentry duty, paperwork shuffling, and combat drills of every sort imaginable; the kind of dull, repetitive work that made her happy when her unit was even called to respond to mass demonstrations. But to be "called up" meant that the unit was being scrambled for an actual mission. The entire 4th sometimes got called up to scout suspected Nod installations, find and eliminate Forgotten raiding posts, camp on tib-smugglers, or similar duty, but the urgency of the message told her this was something different.

Quinn had her pack together and her garrison fatigues on in a matter of minutes. Outside, dozens of additional soldiers were gathering as the whole of Fourth Battalion began mobilizing, over eight hundred troops, all told. Despite being a full-strength battalion, they had a small logistics and support wing because of their Recon status. Recon divisions were all eyes and talons and lean muscle. Leave the bloat and heavy support wings to the front line units.

There was a brief period of semi-controlled chaos as the milling soldiers flooded out of the barracks complex and hurried across the compound, toward the briefing amphitheater. Fourth Battalion was based at Langley Air Base in Virginia, a few miles from the GDI's InOps Command Center, based out of the old CIA Headquarters. Like the Pentagon, the building and the organization housed within had been absorbed into the greater whole of GDI.

"What's goin' on?" asked Private Ronald 'Raider' Reves, a new trooper fresh out of Basic. He was selected to be a grenadier and it showed: big, broad body structure with little to no body fat, his brown eyes complimenting his ebony skin. The man could probably carry two 60 mm grenade launchers fully loaded and still finish five miles a minute under regulation standards. Not that he would be allowed to ever do that, but she figured he could.

"Hell if I know," the tall, slim lady answered. In deep contrast to the burly grenadier, Quinn was almost pencil-thin, save for the muscles on her arms, legs, chest, even stomach. Clocking in at barely 130 pounds she may be small, but as some of the mutants found the hard way she didn't get to Corporal by standing around looking pretty.

"You think Nod might be doing something?" Raider asked, his face lighting up, and Quinn grinned.

"Hope so. Tired of searching empty shacks and shiner raiding outposts."

The legion of armored, uniformed GDI troops rumbled into the amphitheater, hunting down seats and filling the available space quickly. The room was designed to accommodate close to fifteen hundred men, so the troops of Fourth Battalion had no trouble getting the seats they wanted. Soldiers milled about as they took their seats, the buzz of conversation filling the room as everyone speculated on why they had been so suddenly brought up.

"Battalion! _Atten'hun_!"

Every soldier shot to his or her feet as the voice echoed across the room. Colonel Diatchenko entered. He was a tall, icy-eyed man with the scars of a TW2 veteran and lead-colored, close-cropped hair. The Colonel was followed by his aides, and nodded to the troops as he passed.

"At ease," the bulky, Russian officer called, and the troops returned to their chairs. Diatchenko took up a position at the center of the amphitheater, behind a metal podium. Large screens mounted on the wall behind his sprang to life, displaying the golden swooping eagle symbol of GDI.

"Good afternoon, troopers," Diatchenko called, his deep voice supplemented with his heavy Urals accent booming across the chamber as he spoke. "I apologize for the short notice on this call-up, as I know most of you were off-duty. This is going to be short and quick, as we don't have the time or intel for a detailed brief." He tapped something on the podium, and the symbol behind him shifted to a map of western North Carolina.

"As most of you have seen on the news, there was an incident at a Zone Security checkpoint yesterday morning. A delivery truck was found out to be a Nod vehicle, attempting to smuggle Tiberium into Eastern Carolina. Once found out, the driver blew up the truck, killing himself and three Zone Security troopers. We've still got sonic teams sweeping the area for any fragments that may have gotten scattered over the area. InOps has confirmed Brotherhood of Nod involvement, and this morning Sky Sentry satellites turned up evidence of a Nod installation in the region. They haven't been able to pin down the extent of the enemy presence yet."

Lots of gasps and grunts came from the battalion, but Quinn continued to listen. She leaned forward, interested by the briefing thus far. This looked like the real deal, it had to be the real deal. Were they going to be the lead units into a major raid on Nod? The prospect sent an excited flutter through her.

"Now, for why we're getting involved," Diatchenko continued. "As of 0900 this morning, Blue Zone Two has a new active Battle Commander. His name is Pablo de Reis, and General Jack Granger wasted no time giving him the job of scouting out this Nod base. And Commander Reis wasted no time selecting Fourth Battalion from the 103rd to be the recon unit to find it."

"Man who recognizes talent," a PFC snarked, which elicited snickers to loud chuckles across the battalion.

"Commander Ruis has also saw prudent to add Delta Platoon of the 30th Marines Commando Unit to his disposal," Diatchenko finished, which invited a few jeers and groans. "Maps are being uploaded to your individual officers, who will distribute them and brief you individually. Get your gear and weapons together; de Reis himself is leading this operation, and we're lifting as soon as he gets here, which will be in two hours. Dismissed."

Within minutes the amphitheater was emptied, GDI soldiers hurrying back out into the open air, troops quickly gathering into squads and platoons around their officers. The air was filled with the murmur of conversation and shouted orders, superiors barking commands to their troops as they assembled over the roar of distant aircraft engines. Quinn hurried toward where C Company was gathering, and joined up with her squadmates in Third Platoon. Lieutenant Abboud was pulling the platoon together, and once the myriad of troopers was assembled, he nodded.

"Okay, platoon," the brown-skinned officer called, looking over his troops. "Maps are being uploaded as we speak. The new BC hasn't given us individual assignments yet, since this is a pretty sudden mobilization, so he's leaving company and platoon ops to the individual officers. C Company is going to be on point for this operation, with the rest of the battalion following. We'll be reconnoitering, so we're going in on foot, with the rest of the troops coming up behind us in APCs and Pitbulls. Understand?" A chorus of acknowledgements sounded form the platoon, and Abboud nodded. He checked his datapad, and hit a few keys.

"Maps have been distributed to you personal pads," he explained. "The battle plan is pretty simple. We're going in, sweeping this town here, Ginger Creek, and then we'll move west on Camp Branson, an old base we abandoned about five years ago. Judging by the battle plan, Delta Platoon of the 30th Marines are going to be overwatch and provide long-range sniper support. We're to secure the base and use it as a stepping stone to recon the area. From then on, its up to the BC."

He looked up at the troops of Third Platoon, pausing for a moment, and put his datapad away.

"Get your kits and gear together, and report to the armory and gear up for for a heavy loadout. We don't know what we're going to find, so arm yourselves appropriately. Dismissed!"

* * *

"Brothers! Sisters!" came the call from the man walking up and down the troop bay, his red cape flying out behind his as he strode past the righteous warriors of the Brotherhood. "Today is a day of glory for Nod! Our beloved messiah, your benevolent shepherd Kane, has seen far in his wide vision, and in that vision, he has laid out our purpose!"

"One Vision!" shouted the soldiers lining the troop bay, clenching their weapons in tight fingers. "One Purpose!"

"Each of you has been specially chosen," Confessor Rapahel declared, striding around the bay, looking at the men and women as the Carryall's engines began to activate, gesturing and pointing. "Each of you were selected for this task, for in your heart beats the ferocious, undying spirit of the Brotherhood itself! Within each and every one of you is a part of Kane's plan, and he knows - he trusts - that you will carry it out, unto death if need be!"

"His will moves with us!" the soldiers shouted, and the priest smiled. Nicholas was a master at his tradecraft; as a Confessor of the Black Hand, his skills at manipulation, inspiration, and intimidation were formidable, only surpassed by his faith in the Brotherhood and its divine mission. He also knew that he wasn't the only one of his craft; as such, even with certain death looming about his head the warrior-priest was completely at peace at sending his fellow troopers, and himself, on this suicidal operation.

"Remember the names of your ancestors, the Brothers and Sisters who fought and died since the very founding of our sacred order," the Confessor whispered. "The countless millions, if not billions, who have bled and given their lives and their souls for the Brotherhood, to the Prophet's vision of the future. Our Tiberium future! Remember their names, for in them lies our past, and thus, that past is your own. Brotherhood. Peace. _Unity!_ "

"Brotherhood," the men and women chanted in unison. "Peace. _Unity!"_

"Today, we shall strike a righteous blow in the name of the Brotherhood of Nod!" Confessor Raphael declared, clenching his fist. "We shall drive forth, deep into the heart of our enemy, and cut it out! The heathens will know of our names as we smear the heavens with their blood! We shall show them the might of the Brotherhood, and they will fall before us!"

"Peace Through Power!" the furious warriors of Nod shouted, and the Confessor's smile grew.

"Ascension awaits all who serve with faith," he finished. "Meditate on your coming glory, and serve with honor in the coming hours. The future is ours; me must merely reach out and _take it_ from the dead fingers of those that would oppress us."

As the Carryalls began go descend, Confessor Raphael gave one final triumphant fist into the air.

"In the name of Kane!"

 _"KANE LIVES IN DEATH!"_

* * *

The armory door hissed open, and Sergeant Galladon stepped into the room. The walls were lined with weapons: GD2 assault rifles in racks on either side. GD2-M squad-support machineguns and GD12 medium machine guns were on shelves further back, and a special rack holding a set of GSL-70 sniper rifles and GD2-S marksmen rifles were on the opposite side. FGM-90 missile launchers were secured behind a second locked door further back, and GD109 grenade launchers sat on the lower racks. Galladon set about unlocking that as his two assistants started grabbing rifles off the wall racks and handing them to soldiers further back.

Corporal Quinn took her GD2 and checked the weapon as she moved out of the way of her fellows within the armory. Once the inspection was done, she began gathering ammunition from another of the armory Sergeant's assistants, a blocky-face, surly youth identified as PFC Packer.

"You got any idea what's going on out there?" asked Packer as he passed Quinn her ammo clips.

"No idea, man," Quinn replied, annoyed. That was the fifth time someone had asked her that exact same question. "Beyond scouting and killing Noddies, that's all I know."

"News this morning said the threat for Nod got downgraded to Low," a Corporal from D Company identified as Amin grunted as he started donning his armor. Ceramic trauma plates fitted over a ballistic vest and tightly-woven cloth vest underneath, followed by spaulders, elbow and kneepads, and forearm plates. Thigh plates and snap-on shin armor over their boots followed, before putting his rebreather and helmet on completing his ensemble look of a squad machine gunner. It was heavier gear than their predecessors in TW1 and TW2 wore, even heavier than her Recon rifleman armor. But the world was a scary place, and they could not afford to let discomfort get in the way of protection. After all, he still didn't have the full body armor that the Armored Fist troopers in B Company had to don, let alone the powered-armor of A Company's Zone Trooper platoon. "You sure you're not hiding anything from us?"

"Yeah," Quinn grunted and turned around. "Look, other than scouting for an underground Nod base I got nothing else to tell you."

"Shit, yeah, but still," Amin said. "Check me, Quinn?" Quinn turned and checked his plating and load-bearing gear, making sure his armor was properly fitted.

"You're good to go, bro," Quinn confirmed. "Like I said, I know as much as we do, which is shit and nil," Quinn shook her head. "I hear something beyond "Bad guys, go find 'em,' I'll tell you."

"Just checking, girl. Thanks," Amin said as he finished.

"No prob," she answered. "Sorry for being all standoffish."

"I know you, so don't worry about it. You're fine, Quinn," Amin chuckled. "Just curious, is all."

"You know anything about this new BC?" Quinn asked her friend, turning back to her pack and loading spare ammunition and water into it, along with her other gear.

"Good man, says the Lieutenant," Amin replied. "A hero, some say. Fought in Rio back in '34 when the city went to hell. Best part here is that he was one of those civilians before he turned to GDI. Despite the fact that we failed the rest of the civies in Rio, he was willing to give his life in order to stall a massive mob attack on the main offices and evacuate as many personnel and civilians as possible. Lost his eyes and almost his entire face from a Molotov, they managed to graft in a new face for him just in time before he was permanently disfigured...but they had to replace his eyes. Just landed yesterday from B-13, West Africa."

Quinn nodded. She decided that she liked this new Commander, as he was proof that even some Yellow Zone citizens still believed that the Global Defense Initiative was the best chance of surviving tomorrow as opposed to the self-destructive Brotherhood.

"Come on, we gotta get out to the pad and wait for the flyboys to get the Oxen ready," Quinn added. "Maybe one of these other guys heard something about this mission."

"Entire goddamned underground base," Amin said, grabbing his helmet. "That's what I signed on for!"

"Preach it," Quinn said with a grin as she strapped on her rebreather and helmet.

* * *

The dull, bone-shaking growl of rumbling and whining aircraft engines spread out across the airfield, shaking everything that wasn't properly secured. Men and women rushed about, many clad in the jumpsuits and fatigues of airmen and ground crew, preparing the transports for takeoff, shouting over the blasting reports of the ready aircraft. Vehicles of all shapes and sizes were moving across the tarmac, ranging from fuel transports and munitions carts to a few straggling Pitbulls and heavy, elongated armored personnel carriers, being swiftly loaded onto the waiting V-35 Ox transports. Armored soldiers, many of them security personnel at the airbase, were hurrying around, and several were stomping up the transports' ramps as the final preparations for takeoff were underway.

For Pablo de Reis, the chaos and noise felt like home. Only it felt more serene, as opposed to the last time he felt like this. . .

The idling engines of the Ox transport shook Pablo's bones, blasting heat from the thrusters washing over the asphalt and he bounded up the boarding ramp into the dagger-shaped aircraft's belly. His boots rang on the metal as he walked up the steps, clad in fresh brown fatigues underneath a flak vest of the same color, with a visored helmet on his head. Images and data played across his eyes as his EVA unit kept him appraised of the local situation. A hand reached out, belonging to an armored figure whose IFF codes identified him as a "Major Koening."

Commander Reis's hand closed around the wrist of Major Koening's hand as he climbed onto the V-35 Ox transport. The Major's grip was solid and his shake strong, which spoke of the confidence his thirty years of service had ingrained into him. A decade or two older than Karrde himself, the Major was slight but powerfully built, born and bred in B-15. Most likely from northern Germany.

"Fourth Battalion is waiting for you, Commander," he said with a tight smile, gesturing into the Ox. Reis walked inside the passenger bay, where a hundred soldiers were strapped in, their weapons and gear stowed at their feet as they lined the sides of the transport. They all regarded him with mixed expressions, the troops ranging from young Privates and PFCs fresh out of boot camp, barely out of their teens at best, to a few grizzled Sergeants and higher-ups that were older than Karrde and had the scars to match. Though Nod hadn't been terribly active over the last few years, mutant raiders, rioting Yellow Zone citizens, and various peacekeeping actions had kept GDI's troops busy enough.

Reis didn't bother going for one of the seats at the front, where the company officers were sitting, but instead picked out a vacant seat among the regular troops. A few of the troops raised surprised eyebrows at this as the Commander sat down among his men. Though policy frowned on it, Commander Reis made it a point to familiarize himself with the soldiers as much as possible, as he had to earn their trust; he would be personally directing these men and women in the field, and he had to trust them to do exactly as he ordered them to do.

The Ox shuddered as its engines powered up, Koening sitting himself down in the officers' seating at the head of the transport. Pablo patched himself into the battalion channel on his radio as the V-35, with eight more of its brothers, lifted off from the airfield at Andrews, ferrying the whole battalion toward its destination. Knowing the speed of the transports, he expected to be at the drop zone in under half an hour.

"Alô, Fourth Battalion," Pablo greeted over the radio. "This is Battle Commander Reis. You boys and girls have been selected for a mission of the utmost importance."

"That being?" called a random soldier over the radio, who was shushed by another half a second later.

"Agents of the Brotherhood of Nod have snuck into the GDI Admin Building," Reis stated, his voice dead serious, "and made off with an armful of Director Kinsburg's underwear. We're here to locate the old bag's panties and bring 'em back." Laughter echoed over the comm from the troops, which joined Reis and his cadre's choir of giggles.

"We're dropping in two klicks out from Camp Branson, in North Carolina, Yellow Zone Three, Grid 229," Karrde continued after the laughter subsided. "We're going to secure the base and recon the area. Delta Platoon of the 30th Marines will arrive a few minutes after us and take position on the hills south of the base. Sky Sentry has gotten us word that we've got some serious underground energy signatures, fitting the profile of a Nod base. Probably going to be pretty well-hidden, so we're going to have to ferret it out with eyes on the ground."

"There gonna be indigs or shiners?" called another soldier over the radio, whose callsign identified her as Private Liza McConnelly.

"Area looks abandoned," Reis replied, bringing up the intelligence reports before tapping on a new tab that was titled 'ALERT!'. After scanning the report, he tapped on his Comcom had EVA distributing the maps to the entire battalion along with the new information. "Though not by choice, according to this InOps report a few seconds ago. The civies of Ginger Creek had apparently gone missing, which means either they were attacked or captured by some faction. And there's no sign of mutant presence, which most likely confirms Brotherhood involvement."

Of course there was the whole energy signatures and hidden underground base, but that was pretty much old news.

"Weapons ready, but keep your fingers off the triggers," Koening called over the radio. "Brotherhood marauders are not afraid to use the captured civies as human shields."

"Watch for tib-scars or scorpion tails," Reis continued. "Also, keep an eye out for M-16 Mk IIs or any pre-Second Tiberium War weapons. The local police and militias use our GD2s, but since everyone in Ginger Creek's missing consider everyone holding any weapon as hostile."

The troops around the bay nodded; the M-16 Mark II was the weapon of choice for both GDI and Nod in the Second Tiberium War, and literally hundreds of millions had been manufactured, and were still being made, almost beating out all of the rifles of the AK series combined in numbers manufactured and produced. The weapon was now ubiquitous amongst Nod forces, and GDI High Command, in one of its heeded hindsights, made it a point of modeling and manufacturing their GD2s after the aborted Fabrique Nationale SCAR Heavy Rifle in order to differentiate.

"C Company along with the 30th Marines Delta Platoon will advance until they head outside the base and take positions," continued Reis. "D Company will follow after C Company and the 30th take position and will reinforce if necessary. A and B Companies are to hold position at the LZ until we've secured Camp Branson, then move up. From there, we'll recon the region until we find out how many tib-heads are camping out."

"Then what?" asked another soldier, with the Commander's ComCom identifying the voice as Corporal Evelyn Quinn.

"Then we make the choice between calling in Juggernaut artillery, or a Firehawk airstrike," Commander Reis replied with a grin.

* * *

Kane stood at the stained glass window, peering out across the landscape of the land that had once been old Sarajevo. Or there would be, if there was any trace left of it. For kilometer after kilometer, there was nothing but the twisting, jagged, and vaulting architecture of the Brotherhood of Nod. Multiple layers of immense walls, topped with laser towers and missile emplacements and manned by legions of Brotherhood soldiers. Long, blocky barracks and housing complexes topped by angular observation towers and balconies, where even more warriors and workers resided. The spiked, flower-like shrines that glowed with Tiberium incense burners, where the Brothers and Sisters gathered to pray and worship, amidst the dome-like Hands of Nod, with tall, hand-shaped towers gripping globes that symbolized the Brotherhood's place in this world. Other structures, ranging from tall air towers buzzing with aircraft lifting from their high launch pads, to squat, deeply-buried factories and armories filled the city-scale complex. All of it was contained within the immense walls, and the outer perimeter of the city was defined by missile emplacements, concealed bunkers, and the towering, gleaming forms of the Obelisks of Light, the mightiest weapons of the Brotherhood. Within this new incarnation of Sarajevo, no civilian was allowed to stay neutral: they were loyal to the Brotherhood, or loyal to the earth that would cover them.

Below he could see the teeming masses of Brothers and Sisters hurrying about the city, which was built within an immense crater gouged out of the earth half a century ago. Fields of glittering green could be seen scattered throughout the complex, with specially armored transports moving through them. Long, sinuous mechanical arms reached out and scooped the crystals into the vehicles. These fields of sacred Tiberium were tended like organic farms and heavily guarded by Nod troops. The unearthly glow of the radiant, evolving substance bathed the harvesting crews as they gathered it to be refined into the energy and materials they would need to continue growth. Even more fields of the green crystal laid outside the outer walls of Sarajevo, before giving way to the barren, dead landscape of what used to be land of Bosnia.

Footsteps resounded in the empty chamber behind him, and he turned, recognizing the one approaching simply by her gait and bearing. She was tall, slender, with ageless features and regal beauty, but without regal arrogance. Her bearing and gait were confident and controlled, and wore a simple, body-hugging black uniform with no ornamentation; like the mightiest of kings and queens, she had no need to display her power.

"Kilian," Kane spoke with a magnanimous smile as his second in command entered the chamber, the doors sliding shut behind her. A slight charge of electricity touched the air as the anti-surveillance countermeasures kicked in. "No ill news, I hope."

"None to report. The facility in Cairo is on standby," General Kilian Qatar explained, pausing next to Kane. Few had earned the right to be so close to Kane, especially after the last few betrayals he had faced. Seth, Hassan, Marcion...

"And our troops stationed across the globe?" Kane asked, moving toward one of the obelisks in the room, displaying encrypted data from Y-8, China. "I assume there are no complications."

"None worth noting," Kilian replied. "Minor operational issues, but those are being handled locally, and none are impeding the overall battleplan. They await the signal to move."

Kane nodded, looking back toward her. Killian had handled most of the operational deployments while Kane had focused on the greater issues of technology, spirituality, and long-term goals. She had filled a hole in his ranks left by Anton Slavik's death, and much of what he had planned would have been difficult - if not impossible - without her.

"Then it shall all wait on Commander Radec's successful mission in Maryland," he said.

"Indeed," Kilian said, but then she paused. Kane noted her hesitation, and frowned.

"What concerns you?" he asked. Kilian was silent for a moment, hesitant to voice her concerns right away.

"What if the mission fails?" she asked. "If we falter at Goddard, what will happen next? I know that the operation is paramount to allowing us the surprise we'll need to carry out the opening stages, but . . . it seems foolish to risk all of our assets on a mission that could go wrong so easily. If Goddard does not fall, GDI's Ion Cannons . . ."

"Are irrelevant," Kane replied with a smile. "Relax, Kilian. I have planned for every contingency. More importantly, I have absolute faith in Commander Radec's capabilities, especially in light of the staggering incompetence of GDI basing all of its satellite control systems in one base. Even if the mission somehow fails, it will mean nothing. Your planning has ensured that we can withdraw our troops and melt away into the Yellow Zones without anyone ever knowing we were there. We have the initiative, just as we always have had in the past; we can pick and choose our battles when and where we wish."

"I'm sorry to have doubted you," Qatar apologized, bowing in forgiveness.

"Rise, my child," Kane gestured to her. "Your concerns are founded, but as I said, unnecessary."

Kane gestured toward the obelisk behind him.

"GDI has no inkling of what will happen in the coming hours. When the storm crashes down upon them, they shall be swept aside, leaves in the face of a righteous hurricane of holy vengeance. The rivers will run red with the blood of those who oppose us, Kilian; of this I _promise_ you."

* * *

Goddard Space Center was once described as a moder-day, high-tech castle; the accuracy of that comparison would not be far off. Like the European castles of the Middle Ages, the center had multiple tiers of walls and structures, each tier wall armed with automated railgun towers, Guardian Cannons, even Second Tiberium War Vulcan 20 mm rotary autocannon component towers. The garrison in Goddard was assigned to only protect the innermost layers of the fortress, which included the Communications Relay and Control Center, along with the Anti-Sattelite/Anti-Missile Control Tower. The Center was heavily protected by the outer walls' defenses, ensuring that no one could engage in a direct assault without losing most if not all their assets.

And yet, just like the other castles before them, Goddard had a few overlooked weaknesses that could be exploited. Goddard was never built with any anti-air defenses of its own due to its close proximity to three GDI bases: GDI Marine Corps Base Quantico, GDI Army Fort Belvoir, and GDI Naval Air Base Patuxent River, along with several satellite and support facilities. With each base equipped to deal with attacks on the ground and from the air, the three bases formed what could be construed as a "Bermuda Triangle of Death" to anyone who dared to attack the Pontomac River or Chesapeake Bay. However, their anti-air coverage is not perfect thanks to the insistence on dismantling the support facilities' own anti-air defenses by local anti-war GDI politicians and this allowed several gaps in the "Bermuda Triangle" where the Brotherhood's 'borrowed' Orca Carryalls had landed safely to be broken down and transported to its destination before being reassembled to carry along its mission of doom.

Secondly, the anti-air net was designed to ground and destroy hostile aircraft. The sensor nets and arrays spread across the outer net were so fine tuned to destroying any and all flying metal that was not friendly that it never occurred to them that two teams of four man-gliders would be a threat to their facilities. After all, GDI has had glider teams in training exercises and wargame simulations in the area. Never mind that recalibrating the anti-air net to destroy anything not GDI would mean the depopulation and possible extinction of what remains of the local bird populations (according to local GDI politicians).

"Who would've thought that my former comrades would be so dense," Radec mused. The Shadow Commandos and strike force were just a few kilometers away from their target and yet no one had suspected anything out of the ordinary.

"Well, you gotta admit, we're the smart ones," Ajay proudly boasted. "Two wars of getting our asses handed only made us stronger and smarter."

"That's something that should not be proudly paraded upon polite company," Radec responded, eyes glued to the holograms marking their forces' positions.

"Do not be so pessimistic, Radec, "Buchanan replied. "We have grown stronger after we shed our former allegiances, have we not?"

"Indeed we have," Radec softened at her voice.

"Ah, so what's the history between you two?" Ajay asked, pouncing on the opportunity to tease the Legendary Insurgent's hormonal urges or lack of thereof.

"Begin the operation," Radec commanded, tensed in anticipation and annoyance, much to Ajay's satisfaction.

The Shadow Teams descended, using a couple of GDI patrolling fireteams as landing pads. . . None of the garrison troopers even got so much as a moment to figure out why they ended up tripping on the pavement before their demise. With their bodies hidden in one of the empty office buildings, the black ops team began to scale upwards into the Communications Center. . .

* * *

 **Clearance Confirmed...**

 **Accessing GDI Level I Archives...**

 _ **Brief Summarization of the Global Defense Initiative: Updated February 10, 2047**_

 _ **Official Name: United Nations Global Defense Initiative; common abbreviations include UNGDI or just GDI**_

 _ **Created: October 12, 1995 in response to information leaks regarding the existence of the United Nations Operations Group Echo: Black Ops 9 multinational Special Operations Group, ratified under the United Nations Global Defence Act by its members' governments taking effect on the first day of 1996 with later membership automatically granted following ratification**_

 _ **Government type: supra-national state which retains the independence of all its members' countries and its respecitve governments' functions and powers. De-facto: authoritarian global federal state in which all member countries are effectively defunct amd nonexistent with territories taking the names of former countries, states, provinces, and et cetera. All effective provinces and territories by GDI are known as 'Blue Zones'**_

 _ **Capital: Global Defense Space Station Philadelphia, global legislative, executive, and judicial capital with all decisions carried out by Blue Zones' respective legislative, executive, and judicial capitals; Blue Zone territories are free to choose their territorial capitals and these capitals can be rendered temporary or permanent at the territories' choosing**_

 _ **Population: 1,310,742,800 (2044 global census estimate in Blue Zone territories), actual population estimate when including GDI-controlled contaminated 'Yellow' Zones and territories range from 1.38 to 1.42 billion**_

 _ **Currency: local currencies for local trading, tiberium credits for interterritorial, national, and global economic trading**_

 _ **Languages Spoken: All languages and forms of communication still in existence are allowed and protected under the Global Communications and Languages Act 2044. Most common languages spoken include, but not limited to: Standard Mandarin Chinese (all dialects and mutations, other Chinese languages are covered by the GCLA '44), English (all dialects and mutations), Spanish (all dialects and mutations), French (all dialects and mutations), Russian, German (all dialects and mutations), Portuguese (all dialects and mutations), Japanese, Korean, Arabic (all dialects and mutations), Farsi, and Turkish.**_

 _ **History: Created by the United Nations in 1995, its mission statement is as follows: "The Global Defense Initiative was founded to enforce the United Nations Global Defence Act and uphold the ideals of the United Nations Charter." Following the failed assassination of Saddam Hussein along with earlier leaks from whistleblowers and possible news networks fed by Brotherhood insiders, Operations Group Echo: Black Ops 9, GDI's predecessor, was forced onto the international stage. Their reveal had caused many third-world nations, including those previously allied with any of the 'Western' countries, to condemn the black ops taskforce and switch their affiliations or even outright ally with the cult.**_

 _ **Since its inception, GDI has been involved in three global conflicts or world wars: the First Tiberian War of 1999-2002, the Global Liberation War of 2013-2022 (more commonly known as the** **War against the GLA, or Global Liberation Army War), and the Second Tiberian War and its post-war Firestorm Crisis of 2030-2032.**_

 _ **As governments on the local, state/provincial/territorial, and national level began to collapse due to the resulting chaos and instability, the United Nations Global Defense Initiative began to assume regular duties of governance, transforming the UNGDI from a global peacekeeping military force into an actual government institution.**_

 _ **As of 2045, GDI is the sole superpower and only intact country of the planet, Earth. Nations such as the People's City of Rio, People's State of Honduras, State of Sarajevo, Second Republic of Texas, Republic of Egypt-Sudan, the Maghreb Union, and the State of Palestine are under Nod control; as such, GDI does not recognize them as independent sovereign countries. Conversely, GDI does not go out of its way to demolish these areas of power due to heavy pressure to leave those 'unrecognized states' alone while focusing on national affairs and goals such as the continued containment and eventual eradication of Tiberium. In addition, GDI civilian leadership prefers those areas under Brotherhood control as opposed to annexing peoples already hostile to GDI's strict rule. Rumors of direct Nod interference to protect its puppet states are somewhat grounded, but there is no concrete evidence to support the theory due to Nod agents or bribed officials destroying any traces of involvement.**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes: I really like the concept of Intelligence Files in the C &C verse. It really fleshes out the world and makes it more believable; as far as you can make a universe where Kryptoni-eh, Tiberium is dangerous to humans and turns them into more or less feral, mindless, grotesque abominations.**

 **I know that a lot of the Brotherhood's propaganda is just that, but what if those pieces have a kernel of truth? With GDI having to keep order in territories so spread out from each other, and the fact they some of the Blue Zones are formed from some of the worst regimes in our timeline, I'm sure they would have to crack a few skulls to bring order to its Blue Zones. And that usually ranges from breaking up protests, sometimes with force, to straight-up purges and possible ethnic cleansing or genocide.**

 **If we start the Tiberium verse with C &C: Red Alert, there are no Nazis, which means no Holocaust. No Holocaust means no international recognition of massive industrialized genocide. The worst that can probably be put on the bar for the Tibverse is the absolute suppression of Poland and its attempt to root out any resistance by the USSR. The way Stalin treated the Poles in the game makes Stalin's Holodomor look like a breadbasket. Given that Poland is a repubic in Command & Conquer however implicitly suggests that Stalin's repression did not go into full-blown extermination, hence no Holocaust or mass genocide equilvalent. I guess we can put Japan's militarized conquests and suppression of local ethnic groups on that bar, too, but according to background lore the US, the UK, and ANZAC put a stop to it in the Pacific War (OTL WWII Pacific War Theater).**

 **Point being, there is no mass murder/genocide event written in the Tibverse that can reach the level of cold and calculated malice towards groups of people like OTL's Holocaust did.** **So it stands to reason that regimes will still find it acceptable to kill a few people here and there to get what they want. I'm willing to bet that GDI's predecessor did some pretty dirty stuff all in the name of "freedom and liberty," kind of like OTL with our military conflicts across the Cold War, only worse.**

 **Anyway, enough of the rant, until next chapter, take care everyone.**


	3. Chapter 2: Tension

_**Command and Conquer: Tiberium Saga: Third Tiberium War**_

* * *

 _Tensions continue in the South China Sea as Japanese and Filipino vessels capture another PLA 'fishing' vessel about 1,500 miles away from the Chinese mainland. In response to the continued probing attempts, the President issued a statement to the Chinese interim leadership, calling on them to 'cease and desist' on its continued disregard of internationally recognized sea borders and focus on fighting the Global Liberation Army currently occupying the regions of Xianjiang, Gansu, and Qinghai as well as the cities of Hong Kong, Macau, and Shanghai. The Global Liberation Army, formed from the remnants of Al Qaeda, the Islamic State or ISIS, and the world's most dangerous terrorist group, the Brotherhood of Nod, emerged onto the world stage by illegal detonating a nuclear warhead in the country's capital of Beijing..._

 _-W3N reporter Lydia dos Santos, "China Continues to Fight for Control of South China Sea Despite GLA Encroachment," November 15, 2019_

* * *

 ** _Chapter II: Tension_**

"Company, we're dropping in Twenty! . . ." The fellow troopers could barely make out the Major's voice, but it became clear to them that the V-35 was about to land. The closer to land it got, the louder the rumble from the engines' fire making contact with the ground.

"...Three, two, one!" Major Koening's voice was somewhat audible again, and the loading bay ramp of the Ox slowly opened. The soldiers of C Company, 4th Battalion of the 103rd Recon Division undid their seat restraints and rose up slowly with weapons in hand. As the soldiers ran out of the transport in two neat lines single-file, the other three Oxen came down slowly. The Oxen of A & B Companies simply sat there, engines on but idle. The Ox carrying D Company slowly opened, and once the loading ramp had hit the ground the soldiers of D Company jogged out the VTOL craft as well. Once the last of the footmen got off the plane, Guardian APCs drove out of the plane in pairs, with the support and logistics personnel inside. A few seconds later, all 6 of D Company's transports had hit the dirt and the Oxen of C & D Companies took off to refuel at McEntire while a fifth Ox had arrived just a few seconds after at the landing zone.

"Hold, Company," Koening commanded, keeping an eye out for any sudden movements. The bay doors to the Ox opened...and their overwatch support had arrived. Discarding their ghilli suits for identification purposes, Delta Platoon of the 30th Marines had arrived with the same ceramic-metal plated armor as their doughboy counterparts.

"Who's in charge of this mission?" asked the lead Marine. Armed with a GSL-70, the jarhead did not seem phased that some of the soldiers were either gawking at his bluntness or pointing their rifles at him. After all, no need to panic when you have your boys covering your ass with their rifles. After a few seconds, Major Koening arrived with Battle Commander de Reis to his left.

"Pleasure to meet you," Reis greeted, his arm outstretched to give the Marine a simple handshake. The Marine gestured to his men, and they lowered their rifles. He then outstretched his arm and also shook his hand.

"Senior Lieutenant Arnold Crosby," the Marine answered back. "Sorry for not saluting you and for pointing guns at your guys, but as the information you sent told us Nod's crawling up and down this area, so we couldn't take any chances."

"You have nothing to fear, Lieutenant," Reis answered. "We just landed a few minutes ago, the Brotherhood isn't that quick in killing and impersonating us."

"Good," Crosby replied. He pointed northeast next to the Commander's shoulder. "My men and I will take position on the hills in the southwest, and we'll feed you whatever intel we get. Then get your guys to double time it to Branson."

"Very well, thank you Lieutenant Crosby," Reis answered. Crosby grunted in acknowledgement before shouting orders to his own group. "Alright, change of plans: Delta's gonna camp up first, then C Company will go forward and catch whatever hostiles there may be before retaking Camp Branson."

The soldiers grumbled amongst themselves, but acknowledged the Commander's decision. Army or Marine, they were all fighting on the same team and any service rivalries had to be buried for this mission. It still stung nevertheless.

* * *

Through the blazing Carolina sun, the platoons of C Company slowly advanced into the abandoned town of Ginger Creek. Each platoon swept through the area, checking and double checking each building for any signs of life as well as any hidden traps set by Nod or any hidden trapdoors, moving walls, and et cetera. While they found no signs of life, it was always good to check to make sure the town itself wasn't alive.

The Major and his company were not having fun under the sweltering heat, having to check and double check every empty home, shop, shack, and saloon for any traces of the missing residents as well as any hidden doors, walls, passageways and Nod tampering. Still, it needed to be done.

"Clear," Major Koening reported along with the following repeats from the foot troopers, and Commander de Reis looked up from the metal 'floor' of the APC he was riding in, followed by the 'CLEAR' flashing through his HUD in his helmet. Though the Commander insisted on wanting to lead his men alongside, Major Koening, along Major Kerensky of D Company, ordered he rest in one of the air-conditioned APCs and let the troops handle their mission. And while they had a point considering de Reis's inferior stealth training, de Reis insisted that the leader must demonstrate he is capable of the same job as his subordinates if he is to order them around.

Which was why Major Kerensky of D Company was sitting next to him, watching the very feeds that Reis was watching in the command APC. More importantly though, Kerensky had to make sure Reis didn't go rushing out with a gun.

"Okay then, C Company will lead again, while D will stay in the town until the base is secure," Reis commanded. "I'll leave the advance up to your company and platoon leaders." Once the acknowledgements from C Company we heard, he opened up a channel to Delta Platoon of the 30th Marines.

* * *

Despite the blazing sun, Delta Platoon of the 30th Marines Commando Unit rested their bodies on top the scraggly hills with a single cliff south of the base. They've been out there for about for an hour, and in spite of not having their ghilli suits the Marines were well-camouflaged amongst the light-brown clay.

The platoon, as expected of their mission, was composed of nothing but snipers and marksmen, the wait-and-see scouts, capable of camping for hours on end to assess the situation until they're needed to take the shot. Luckily for them, they had all the intel they needed from the time passed.

"How's the TA looking, Lieutenant?" Commander de Reis's voice echoed through Crosby's comm piece.

Crosby smiled, then opened his channel to respond. "Base is crawling with hostiles in fatigues, camo webbing, and hoodies. Most of them are carrying M16 Mk IIs, AKs, and M4s." He paused to look through his scope again. "Got about four, five officers on the southwest corner on some boxes, and two RPGs sitting near the enterance walls."

Crosby frowned as he said his next report. "We also got a busted Tib rupture, about a few clicks southeast from the base. Judging by what remains of the tower, Nod destroyed the damn thing to free the 'beautiful fields of green,' or some shit like that. Judging by the size, it was probably popped two, three weeks ago."

"Copy, Lieutenant, patching into your field," Reis replied.

"Patching to all your guys, Commander," Crosby answered, tapping a few buttons on his comms panel on his left armored gauntlet.

* * *

Quinn was seeing, but she wasn't believing: a ruptured Tiberium field about a few meters in diameter. It was so pretty, in a macabre POV, as the green mist from the discharged ions and minerals gave it a sparkling look. Then her attitude went back to disgusted as she heard the hole 'belch up' more green crystals into the slowly expanding field, glowing with a sickly green light.

She remembered that GDI procedure with loose Tiberium ruptures was to surround the field with sonic emitters until the crystals could be harvested, with laser fencing to ward off any curious bystanders. Once the field was completely depleted, the rupture was 'capped' with a Tiberium silo and a slender metal tower with a built-in Tiberium refinery to contain and process any Tiberium that the rupture may release into the ground. The "clear-and-cap" procedure was effectively used to clear any new ruptures in the Blue Zones and to clean up any Yellow Zones marked for 'reclamation and conversion' into Blue Zones. It was also procedure to clear-and-cap any tib fields near any abandoned, deactivated GDI bases so the crystal would not overrun the area in case it needed to be brought back online.

In short, Nod blew up the tower to celebrate the 'liberation' of another green sore in the dying planet as the crystals continued to slowly spread. Now she wanted to kill whoever was in Branson to avenge the earth.

"So, how are we going to take back the base?" asked Lieutenant Tibbs of 5th Platoon, C Company.

"Right, once were about half a klick away 3rd Platoon will spearhead the advance, with 4th and 5th Platoons as backup," ordered Koening, "1st and 2nd Platoons will breach from the northern wall overlooking the creek and cut off any attempts to escape. We're foregoing on all stealth maneuvers, weapons hot, sweep and clear. Any questions?"

Once he heard no questions and multiple acknowledgements, Koening signaled to the Commander.

* * *

"We got the intel, Crosby," Reis reported back to the Marine sniper. "Look for my boys and gals charging towards the base. When any platoon reaches within 100 meters of Branson, start lighting up the scorpions."

"Copy, Commander," Crosby answered as he put away his magnifying binoculars and shouldered his GSL-70, the bipod already unfolded and steadying the rifle. His spotter, Sergeant Daniel Crocker, had already set up his GSL-70 equipped with a laser sight, and a Han Industries 4x30 magnification scope.

"You think the tib-heads are gonna know what hit them?" Crocker asked.

Crosby chuckled at that. "They ain't gonna have a goddamn clue." The answer satisfied Crocker as evidenced by his light laughter.

As he adjusted his scope, Crosby could see the mightly-armed militants carrying boxes and putting them on civilian puck-up trucks. Slowly moving his scope to view the potential victims, Crosby saw the four, five officers having a smoke party. _Probably pot laced with Tiberium_ , he guessed. He moved his rifle sideways and he could see the armored doughboys heading closer to the outer walls of the base. Within seconds, they reached the walls of the base, with two platoons splitting off to head north.

Even though Commander Reis told him to fire when they reached 100 meters, Crosby was a very nice man. He wanted his Army counterparts to get at least a few seconds of rest before they go in and save the day. Too bad for them, it was probably only two seconds before he swiveled his rifle onto the head of one officer who was about to take a drag and he pulled the trigger. The discarded sabot .50 caliber round flew out of his railgun and the officer's head soon resembled a watermelon being smashed with a sledgehammer. _Smoking Tiberium's bad, m'kay,_ Crosby thought cheerfully as the body slumped onto the ground.

Before any of the other Brotherhood gunners knew, the other 29 snipers and marksmen made their marks and another 29 tib-heads were suddenly dead or missing limbs. Crosby scoped another man, carrying what looked like a WWII-era RPG-7. He pulled the trigger on his semi-auto rifle, and the man looked like he had a fatal encounter with a chestbursting bullet. A few seconds later, the sound of two volleys of combined fire echoed across the area. Thank goodness for modern advanced sound dampners.

* * *

Corporal Quinn heard the rocketing sounds of the railguns and her platoon-mates rushed through the front entrance, rifles making a racket with their 3-round fire bursts. More bodies falling to the ground, the rest of their comrades still unsure whether to attack or to retreat. A few milliseconds later, she could hear the _whoomp_ of A & B Platoons' grenade launchers as their 40 mm rounds made a beautiful rainbow of air and vapor steam before detonating into the large group of militants.

The militants were now surprised, blown up, and scared. Quinn and her fireteam rushed for cover near a turned over metal drum and opened fire once more. 14, nay 15, more militants dropped dead from the combination attack, while what remained of the Occupy Camp Branson group had given up trying to counterattack and attempted to reach the pick-up trucks and make their escape. She heard another wave of _whoomps_ and within a second, the trucks were encased in fireballs, which in turn ignited the gas tanks, creating more explosions and sending shrapnel towards the retreating force closest to their getaway vehicles. Out of about 227 visible bodies, only 5 militants remained.

Quinn heard the sound of running bootsteps, and she turned to see D & E Platoons running late to the party. Quinn looked at one militant who looked barely 18 and scared out of his mind.

"Don't move," she warned him, rifle still raised and her hand on the trigger. He complied, standing still as an oak tree, not caring if he shat himself in the process. "Where are you from?" commanded Quinn. The boy slightly twitched.

"Don't move, just answer my question." He twitched again before regaining his composure and softly murmured.

"G-Gi-Ginger, C-C-Creek," that was what Quinn heard when he was finally audible. Immediately, Quinn lowered her rifle and slowly took the arm of the boy.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you," Quinn soothed the scared man. She opened her comms and reported, "Guys, we got a survivor from Ginger Creek here!"

"A-a-are you g-g-guys gonna h-hurt me?" the boy stammered.

"No, no, you'll be alright," Quinn soothingly replied. "We'll get you cleaned up, alright?"

"EVA, patch this to the rest of the 4th Battalion along with this: Camp Branson is ours," Lieutenant Abboud's triumphant voice echoed through the comms. But Quinn was in no mood to celebrate: innocent kid or not, he needed to be brought for interrogation.

* * *

The next three hours became a whirlwind of activity as the rest of 4th as well as Delta of the 30th Marines began to reactivate the base's functions. Four barracks complexes were prefabricated and deployed to temporarily give the troopers some downtime, while the comms center and automated refinery were brought back online thanks to the addition of two more prefabricated power plants. With the tiberium harvester reactivated, Branson now had a local stream of credits instead of having to rely on the Pentagon's finances.

The engineering crew of B Company confirmed that there was no hacking or attempt of sabotage to any of Camp Branson's buildings and so after some new upgrades to the buildings' security systems the buildings were operating at optimal efficiency. Meanwhile, the medical corps confirmed that many of the bodies were Nod initiates, as evidenced by the inert Tiberium crystals placed into their flesh and skin. What shocked the commanding officers however was the revelation that some of the corpses were indeed former residents of Ginger Creek, most likely conscripted and forced into service.

As for the five POWs the GDI force captured, only the teenager that used to reside in Ginger Creek was cooperating. After being treated with controlled sonic pulses to get rid of any possible Tiberium contamination, along with a new change of clothes, some water and warm food, the young boy told them everything he could remember. In particular, there was a small Nod outpost to the east of Branson which held a prison camp where the remaining residents of Ginger Creek were most likely being held captive. After confirming the coordinates, A Company was sent to check out the outpost and as expected the small installation was completely undefended. The militant force occupying Branson did not bother even leaving a token guard force, and after disabling the internal defense systems B Company's engineers were able to override the Master Control Terminals the Hand of Nod complex along with its local Power Plant were now under Camp Branson's control. Sixty-seven prisoners were rescued and were immediately taken to Branson for medical attention, while thirty-nine corpses were placed in body bags for identification and later burial. Going through the Hand of Nod's archieves, Reis made a grim discovery.

The large energy distortions Sky Sentry detected confirmed the presence of a Brotherhood base. Not only was the base protected under active stealth camofluage, the base is only a few klicks from Camp Branson, with only the stream protecting Branson from a direct assault. When the findings were sent back to Reis, he confirmed that the base was large enough to hold at least one armored division. That revelation was enough to shatter the illusions of the GDI troopers.

 _Of course,_ Reis thought to himself, unfazed of the pain given when his palm met his face. Nod loves their active stealth camouflage so much ever since the invention of Ezikiel's Wheel: the first working and operational active cloaking generator. It only stood to reason that they would cloak their bases to hide their presence. What was a strange anamoly to InOps clicked inside the dispatch force's heads...and realized that this base could be incredibly massive.

Thanks to the equipment salvaged from the captured Outpost and Hand of Nod, they finally got a working feed to the Pentagon. And judging by Reis's reports, along with the minute updates by the scouting parties of C & D Companies, General Granger's frowning face was all that needed to be said with this development.

"If what you say is true, then this is gravely concerning," Granger stated with worry. "Sky Sentry's still not giving us a clear picture of what's going on down there. I was afraid of this, we're probably dealing with a full-sized combat division, maybe two. Nod's gearing up for something, and we can't warn the Directorate at this moment."

"What do you suggest we do, General?" asked Reis. The thought of his forces fighting against a fully-armed division with vehicular and possible air support looked very grim at the moment.

"I'm going to patch you in to Lieutenant Kierce James, one of our liasons at the Theater Ops," Granger answered. "She will be handling any intel updates you give her and vice versa, and she'll be authorized to give you whatever support options you need." The Commander nodded and the General gave a slight nod back before the screen went red for a few seconds. Commander Reis noticed Major Koening's visible concern.

"Something the matter, Major?" Reis asked.

"The General gave you Kirce James as our liason," Koening graveled.

"Anything you want to tell to tell me about her?" Reis prodded further.

Major Koening sighed. "She does her job well, but. . ."

"'But' what, Major?"

"She tends to be...over dramatic, sir," Koening frowned as he answered his commanding officer.

"Oh, I'm sure she isn't going to be too ba-" the conversation was cut as they heard interrupting grunting. A new face appeared on the screen: a beautiful young woman with dark hair clad in the garrison uniform of an InOps agent. Said wonan had just listened in on their last few lines of their productive conversation, judging by her scowl.

"Lieutenant James, I presume?" Reis asked.

"Indeed, Commander Reis," James replied before returning to her smiling, friendly disposition. "General Granger had briefed me on what your situation is currently." Her voice oozed with over-professionalism and self-importance, which made Major Koening scowl before he moved far enough to not be seen on James's monitor.

"I'm guessing there's some history between you two," Reis sighed at the Major's lack of professionalism at the moment.

"There is, but that is not what's important," James gently reprimanded the Commander. She tapped a few buttons on her desktop terminal before looking up to the Commander. "I've got a squadron of Firehawk jets along with a squad of Orcas on standby, Commander Reis."

"Uh, you sure I'll need that much firepower?" inquired Reis.

"The flyboys at Langley are itching for a mission, so why not?" she answered with a shrug. "I'm also in the process of getting an ion cannon satellite to your AO."

Commander Reis was taken aback. _GDI aircraft strikes, now an ion cannon, can't believe I was right,_ Reis thought as silence filled the air. "What kind of firepower are you suggesting for the ion cannon strike?"

"Grade Four," James answered off-handedly, her attention elsewhere. Reis was now visibly shocked: Grade Four was the highest strength an Ion Cannon was allowed to use at an Area Commander's disposal, remembering what his superior officer in B-13 told him. That kind of firepower surpassed tactical nuclear warheads, with the bonus of no residual gamma radiation while any alpha and beta radiation can simply be ignored provided the troopers didn't take off their armor or helmets.

"G-Grade Four?" Reis questioned. "Seems a bit-"

"-Overkill? When dealing with the Brotherhood, there's no such thing as overkill," James replied, her face now staring at the Commander's. The Commander in returned smiled: she may be a bit self-important in her attitude, but the fact that she's given all this firepower at his disposal gives her that right.

"Thank you, Lieutenant James," Reis replied.

"Glad I'm able to make a good first impression on you," James smiled in return. "By the way, what did Major Koening say about-"

Commander Reis's Comcom went off and both officers frowned. "Report," he commanded.

"Sir, we got company! Nod tanks and vehicles crossing the river!" The report came from Major Kerensky of D Company.

"Say again, Major!"

"Nod tanks and soldiers coming down the-!" the comms unit filled with static while the video feed went into gray.

"Damnit," Reis cursed. "Lieutenant James, scramble those fighters now."

"Already on it, sir," James hurriedly replied.

* * *

Corporal Amin's armor heaved as he got himself off the ground, having to leave his GD2-M behind. He heard another couple missiles launch towards him and he moved to his right, the missiles zooming past where he was before detonating a couple hundred feet from him. He kept running, not daring to look back until he was on the other side of the bridge. He heard another of his platoonmates scream before a missile sent the corpse's arm to Amin's visor. He disgustedly whipped the severed arm behind him as a couple of machinegun rounds deflected off his body armor. He could hear the crunch of the ceramic plates being broken from the impacts, but at least they didn't penetrate.

He was just 15 meters away where he could see the entrenched position on the other side of the river. Instaconcrete walls and barricades were already set up, along with instaconcrete 'foxhole' squad bunkers. Pairs of automated machine gun towers flanked both sides of the position, providing cover fire for Amin along with the retreating elements of C & D Companies. The heavy _boom_ noises from Nod tank cannons rang into Amin's ears that he didn't even notice he had made it across before falling again and having to be dragged to the 'cover' portion of the position.

"Jesus Christ, you can't stay off the ground, can ya," said a familiar voice. Amin wondered why the accent sounded off though. "Come on now, Amin, get up!" He finally pulled himself of the ground and saw the C Company recon rifle trooper standing next to him before she dropped a GD2 by his side.

"Quinn?" Amin asked, still puzzled and dazed.

"Yah, yah, stop worry'in about me accent and shoot the tib-heads already!" Quinn yelled before she drew her rifle and fired a couple three-round bursts, hitting two milita members as they collapsed on the ground. The Scorpion Tanks continued to advance, treads running over the corpses of friend and foe. The missile-equipped platoons of D Company had finally situated themselves a little far back on the west side of their entrenched checkpoint and both could hear the Lieutenant's "volley fire!" command as the 36 men and women fired the FGM-90 launchers. Their missiles flew with a screaming vengeance before impacting on the tanks' armor and exploded with fiery prejudice. 6 Scorpion Tanks turned into burning heaps of scrap metal, while the remaining missiles claimed 6 machine gun buggies and 11 attack cycles.

Not that any of them stood around to watch the fireworks, as Amin continued to pour down 3-round bursts of 6.5x46 mm death towards any foot mobile not wearing GDI's armored uniforms. He fired another burst before his gun clicked empty, but he saw another militiawoman go down in an instant. Probably from a lucky headshot or something, he guessed. "That makes eight for me!" he called out as he hid behind the wall reloading his rifle.

"Eleven! Twelve! Thirteen!" called out Quinn as she fired another two single shots, killing another Nod rifleman. "That makes fourteen," she quipped as she hid behind the wall reloading as well.

Their shooting contest was interrupted by the sound of 18 GSL-70s and 12 GD2-S rifles going off in unison, splitting open 30 more Nod riflemen and machinegunners into chunky bloody bits. The militiamen and women completely panicked and began to run back to the nearest Scorpion Tank husk they could find.

"Mind if we cut into this turkey shoot?" called out Lieutenant Crosby.

"You're on, jarhead," challenged Quinn as she popped back up from the wall and put another five shots downfield, hitting three more goons and killing two more. A few militiamen fired at their positions, rounds skimping off Quinn's and Amin's armored suits. In turn, those militia were cut down by more sniper fire.

Amin decided to even the odds between the two services by picking up a GD2-M squad support weapon that his fellow dead comrade no longer needed. Grabbing a fresh 50-round box mag, he locked it in place before placing the gun on the wall and pulled the trigger. Steel rain poured into the covered positions of the Nod militia, the four or five-round bursts scything through the burning sand. Some of the bullets hit true, with ten more militia members dead. Ignoring the sporadic burst of gunfire bouncing off Amin's armor, he turned to a crawling Noddie who had lost both his legs trying to get to cover, and fired a four-round burst into him.

"Hey now, that's cheating," reprimanded Crosby. Laughter from both factions could be heard over the comms as the remaining Noddies retreated once again, but not before Amin added two more to his kill count with a tossed grenade.

"Guys, it ain't over yet," called out Major Koening through the comms. "We got more incoming!"

Sure enough, even though they couldn't see it over the swirling dust of the battlefield they could hear the rumbling treads of at least 50 tanks along with the roaring engines of attack cycles and machine gun buggies.

"Guys, we got rockets incoming!" squawked a panicked NCO. As if to make a point, a barrage of dumb rockets landed on their position, exploding and shattering concrete. Walls, barricaded, bunkers, and towers exploded, whiles tens of GDI troopers dove for cover or fell with bodies and body parts strewn across the field.

"Rocket Buggies!" Screamed Major Kerensky. "All of you, take cover behind the Guardians and fall back! Engineers, blow the Hand of Nod and Outpost!" Anymore orders from Major Kerensky were cut short as they heard another barrage of _fuweesh_ sounds tore a hole in the sound barrier, before raining down more explosive death on the retreating GDI defenders. A salvo detonated on top of the pair of Guardians, taking out the troops' movile cover.

Corporals Quinn and Amin, along with the rest of their Companies began double timing their way back on foot. With their covering APCs destroyed, all they can do is hope that Nod's gunners have terrible aim, which at this point seemed highly unlikely. . . .

* * *

The Shadow teams slipped in through one of the windows of the center, taking out any engineers and technicians that were in the way like a silent and deadly plague. One team managed to get down to the first floor and disable the lock for the saboteur team to get in once they eliminated all opposition in the building. Meanwhile, the other team continued to sabotage the comm lines, draining power from one sector to another or cutting land lines and unplugging others.

After finishing mopping up outside opposition and disabling all security measures, the two teams of four regrouped into the main communications hub. Multiple gray-blue screens lit the large room, but the Shadows' cloaking suits kept them invisible as long as they followed the pre-programmed movements built in. The eight men and women waited in silence as they listened to the various conversations.

"Air strike confirmed, sending in the eagles..."

"Confirmed raiding outpost, sending target coordinates to Juggernaut batteries..."

"Sir, new orders are..."

"Armored company on its way, keep the insurgents holed up..."

"Really? But mam, we..."

"Deploy Guardians, but do not fire on the civilians..."

"Alright. Yes, mam..."

"What's going on?"

"Air strike inbound, ETA 3 minutes..."

"That was Lieutenant James. She wants us to activate one of the Ion Cannons."

"What!?"

The Shadows continued to listen silently and without notice, while one of them inputted an alert for their Commander and patched him into their eavesdropping devices. The trooper then put out an inquiry before quietly closing the comm panel on his suit's left gauntlet.

"Are, are you sure?"

"Yes. Order is confirmed. We have no choice. Bring ICES-27 online and input location and target coordinates."

* * *

Radec became paler than usual, while Ajay and Buchanan were more obvious in their shock. GDI would never activate one of their Ion Cannons, not after the attack on Johannesburg a year ago that allowed Nod to know every Ion Cannon satellite in orbit. In addition, that attack allowed the Brotherhood to pull off this current mission thanks to the stolen plans of GDI's ASAT network complex.

 _They wouldn't risk us hijacking their satellites. Unless..._

"Buchanan, any alerts or reports from any of our local forces?" growled Radec.

She tapped into her control/comms panel and enlarged the holographic display. "Yes, unfortunately. It looks like GDI has found one of our forward bases in North Carolina. They have about 25,000 troops and personnel there!"

"Not to mention a couple armored battalions and light armor support," explained Ajay. "Damnit, they're on to us..."

"No, not yet," Radec calmly called out. "Even if they know one of our bases is at their borders, they still have no idea we are inside their facility." He tapped into his comms panel and saw the Shadow's inquiry.

 _Standby or Execute?_

"Radec, they must execute these infidels! If they don't, that..."

"They already put in the coordinates for the weapon to follow. Killing them without the sattelite acquiring its final codes will trigger alarms in the facility. Even with their comms cut, they can still alert the other bases by laser or sattelite."

"We have no choice, the Ion Cannon must succeed in destroying that base," Radec concluded.

"Radec, this is madness!" Buchanan shouted. "Twenty-five thousand Brothers and Sisters will be condemned before their mission has begun!"

"It pains me, but we have no other choice," Radec coldly stated.

"There is a choice, Radec! Have them kill those..."

"No, the Commander's right," Ajay finally spoke up.

"Wh-what are you-"

"Radec is right, Buchanan," Ajay began. "If our Shadows kill them now without the sattelite reaching its destination, GDI will know something is up. They're complacent, not stupid. And if they found one of our cloaked bases, then that means they'll treat every energy-reading anomaly as one of ours and use all their Ion Cannons." He turned to Radec and looked at him intently. "You're pretty smart, Commander. And as much as it hurts me so, we have to sacrifice those men and women if we want to keep GDI blind to the true strike."

Radec solemnly nodded. He typed in the following message:

 _Standby until the Ion Cannon has reached its destination. Then eliminate all opposition. Saboteurs will take care of the rest. We will remember their loss while we conduct our campaign of righteous vengeance. Peace Through Power._

* * *

 _ **GDI WeaponsTech Engineering Archives-Specifications for GD2 Assault Rifle: Updated August 22, 2046**_

 _ **Weight (unloaded): 3.98 kilograms (8.77 pounds), GD2-Standard Assault Rifle; 3.59 kilograms (7.92 pounds), GD2-Carbine (GD2-C); 5.53 kilograms (12.2 pounds), GD2-Light Machine Gun (GD2-M); 5.23 kilograms (11.53 pounds), GD2-Marksman Rifle (GD2-S)**_

 _ **Length or Height: 822 mm (32.36 inches), GD2 Standard; 743 mm (29.25 inches) GD2-C; 864 mm (34.02 inches), GD2-M; 975 mm (38.39 inches), GD2-S**_

 _ **Barrel Length: 18 inches (457.2 mm.) (GD2); 14 inches (355.6 mm.) (GD2-C); 20 inches (508 mm.) (GD2-M & GD2-S)**_

 _ **Cartridge: 6.5x46 mm Lapua GDI (standard), 7.62x39 mm (conversion), 6.5x43 mm Kurz-Carcano (conversion), .280 British (GD2-M conversion), .300 Blackout (GD2-M conversion), .338 Lapua Magnum (GD2-S conversion), .338 Norma Magnum (GD2-S conversion), .30-06 Springfield (GD2-S and GD2-M conversion), 7.92x57 mm Kurz (GD2-S and GD2-M conversion)**_

 _ **Rate of Fire: 640 rpm (rounds per minute) full-automatic**_

 _ **Muzzle Velocity: 955 m/s (3133** **ft/s) with standard ammunition**_

 _ **Range: variable depending on ammunition; maximum range 600 meters using 6.5x47 mm Lapua GDI with effective combat range at 450-520 meters**_

 _ **Action: short-stroke, gas-operated rotating bolt**_

 _ **Feeding Mechanism: 30-round magazine (GD2 and GD2-C), 50-round box magazine or 200-round disposable belt (GD2-M), and 20-round magazine (GD2-S)**_

 _ **Following the Firestorm Crisis, several glaring errors in the GDI variants of the M16 Mk II prompted a massive investigation of the manufacturers of the weapon as well as any officials connected with the cover-up of these deficiencies. Following the arrest or escape of those involved, GDI Military Command was tasked with creating a new infantry combat rifle designed to solve the problems of the M16 Mk. II.**_

 _ **As GDI riflemen carried surplus battle rifles from the G3 to the M14 during the transitional period, gun engineers found that the 5.56x45 mm NATO was insufficient in penetrating Nod combat armor in the most optimal conditions. After testing several ammunition types, the modified 6.5x46 mm Lapua was declared the winner of the Standardized Assault Rifle Ammunition Competition in 2035. Now they needed to design a gun best suited for firing this simple, yet high-quality intermediate rifle cartridge.**_

 _ **Going through archives of weapons designs, the engineering team found blueprints of an aborted experimental rifle, the Fabrique Nationale Herstel Special Combat Assault Rifle, or SCAR for short. Drawing upon the schematics and ballistics tests, engineering and manufacturing crews began creating this forgotten weapon into reality. The first version, the XM82, was found to break after sustaining 2 seconds of full automatic fire. A second version, the XM83, performed well except for one glaring problem: the drastic bullet drop at about 200-300 meters. To counter the shortcomings, a new gunpowder containing 'harmless' (radiation and contaminant-free with infestation properties eliminated) Tiberium particles was used. The results were astonishing: the Tiberium-based reactants propelled the bullet far greater than the original M16 rifle while maintaining a much flatter trajectory before experiencing bullet drop at 500-600 meters. It was immediately classified as the M218, more commonly known as the 6.5x46 mm Lapua GDI.  
**_

 _ **The XM83 became the GD1 rifle, and became the first live test for GDI soldiers. Despite its superior performance, many soldiers complained that the recoil was too much causing shoulder discomfort, and dislocation in more serious incidents. Other problems included the iron sights being too small to effectively acquire targets, soldiers slipping their hands off the barrel grip due to said recoil, and due to the incompatibility of the 6.5x46 Lapua in STANAG magazines the clips would not properly attach to the rifle or fall off at random during sustained automatic fire.**_

 _ **Going back to the drawing board, the scientists of war found multiple solutions to these problems. Due to GDI helmets having built-in rebreathers and filters to counter wind-driven Tiberium shards, the concern of gas propellants of entering soldiers' mouths and causing medical problems were no longer a major concern. A three-circle vented muzzle brake was built into the rifle, increasing its overall barrel size, as well as venting the gases trapped in the barrel out. As built-in noise dampeners in GDI combat helmets increased in effectiveness, concerns of higher decibels causing ear drum perforation were nullified. A much sturdier stock taken from designs of the Browning Automatic Rifle, a longer and sturdier barrel, and a stronger rifle receiver construction also helped lower recoil, as well as a newly-designed magazine to properly chamber the 6.5x46 mm Lapua GDI cartridges. The iron sights were widened to give the rifleman a more accurate view of the target as well as being adjustable for longer-range targets. And lastly, a built-in underbarrel foregrip in the style of the MP5K was approved, giving extra maneuverability and handling with these new rifles.**_

 _ **The new GD2 rifle was near-unanimously approved by soldiers and passed all relevant tests with flying colors. Manufacturing began in August 2037, with official adoption of the rifle into GDI's family of weapons happening three months later after select testing with multiple rifleman companies.**_

 _ **As the rifle nears its 10 year anniversary, many additions were proposed for the GD2 including a built-in red dot magnifier for Standard, Carbine and LMG variants and an integrated grenade launcher for the Standard and Carbine models. Others included built-in laser sights or tactical flashlights, mounted nanoblade bayonets, or a hybrid optics sight consisting of a red dot magnifier and 3.4x magnification scope used by the late Dragunov SVD sniper rifle. While many of these additions are pending, the GD2 has become the "New Arm of the Free World," as some political pundits have nicknamed it. The GD2 is expected to be the main weapon of GDI's ground troopers for decades to come.**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Well, that took a long time, but here we are. Unlike the first two chapters, I wanted to diverge from Peptuck's Tiberium Wars to convey the different styles of writing that he uses versus mine. I'm also going back and forth between the Camp Branson and Goddard mission as those are supposed to be happening concurrently.**

 **This fic's version of the GD2 Assault Rifle and its variants are largely thanks to Ranfield's take on Deviant Art. Just type in GD2 Rifle DeviantArt and it should be the first thing that pops up. Literally looks like a FN SCAR, and that's how it should look like on the surface. Add the BAR stock, or more specifically the modern-day version, the Heavy Counter-Assault Rifle, the MP5K-designed foregrip or the integrated grenade launcher with MP5-style pistol-grip and you got yourself this fic's GD2. Compare to EA's version of the GD2 (way too bulky, heavy, and boxy, no useful iron sights, there's no trigger guard because there's no trigger!, the grip is just a tiny stub, and its literally just a shittier version of the M41A Pulse Rifle), thank goodness EA is not into the military-industrial complex (I hope).**

 **What else. Oh, you'll notice the little epigraph at the beginning. Considering that the Tibverse is supposed to mirror ours, references to real-life conflicts happening right now will appear occasionally with the right contexts. And yes, I just made part of the Generals verse canon (if it wasn't obvious in the prologue).**


	4. Chapter 3: Sweet Ascension of Doom

_**Command and Conquer: Tiberium Saga: Third Tiberium War**_

* * *

 _I thank thee, Heavenly Father...for our deliverance by Kane! GDI accuses him, saying, "We found this man perverting our nation...and destroying the law and the prophets." To which, he said this: "He, Go_ _d himself, came down among them, and said, is it lawful on the sabbath days to do good, or to do evil? To save life, or to destroy it?" And GDI was filled with madness as they could not rise to answer the contradiction in their directive! And so Kane himself said, "you will be thrown down to Hades!"_

 _And that is why we are here today, my brothers and sisters! We shall show GDI the very meaning of Hell for their lies, their hypocrisy, their contradictions, their arrogance, and their hubris! Today, we shall strike an irreversible blow to the decaying dragon that is GDI!_

 _-Brother Marcion, excerpt from his Holy Address to the Brotherhood, June 18, 2047_

* * *

 _ **Chapter III: Sweet Ascension of Doom**_

Commander de Reis could only watch in horror as the discordant retreat of GDI's C & D Companies continued to be readily smashed apart by Nod's Rocket Buggies and Scorpion Tanks. Even D Company's rocket platoons could barely hold them off for time before they perished at the cannons of the Scorpions. The company itself might as well been nonexistent, having lost Major Kerensky and the majority of its elements.

C Company was not faring much better. Though Major Koening was right next to him, from the various helmet feeds being randomly disconnected upon the troopers' deaths it was clear that the Brotherhood is hellbent on killing every single one of them. And while the 30th Marines was doing their best to lay down cover fire with their snipers, they could only do so much before Nod's Rocket Buggies started targeting them. Two barrages had already been narrowly avoided thanks to the early warning of Kerensky before he went KIA.

The commanding officers of A & B Companies in turn, were not helping. Accusations from the Commander being inept and/or incompetent (none of these officers grasped the concept of synonyms) to being a sleeper Nod agent quickly switched to blaming one another for the Commander's failure when Major Koening threatened them with court marrial for 'attempted mutiny and desertion.'

As he continued to watch the feed, constant warnings by EVA nonwithstanding, he had a sudden chill of dread and despair fall upon him that not even Major Koening could snap him out of it. As such, as the most senior field officer of the mission, Koening used his position to snap his 'esteemed colleagues' out of deliquency and to begin mobilizing for a front-line defense as well as covering fire for a retreat. All of 4th Battalion as well as the 30th Marines detachment was now rushed to hold off the Nod advance in hopes that the air strikes would come soon. If not, then their lives would be the least of their worries...

* * *

Pain was all that Quinn could feel. Even after falling back to Branson, a lucky burst ripped into her back armor. The bullets didn't penetrate, but it definitely left a trio of bruises. Not that it mattered, as another salvo of rockets rained down on their positions. The 'dumb' rockets missed, but only by inches, as shrapnel and fire hit the ground. Her armor could barely protect her from the concussion blasts as she was knocked down onto the ground.

"Quinn!" Amin yelled, picking her off the ground with his arm.

"I'm fine, bro," she whispered hoarsely, the wind still knocked out of her. "We gonna die out here today."

"No, no, that's the concussion talkin', y'a gonna be fine," Amin assured her, before shouldering his GD2-M and began firing again.

"Hold on a min'ut, yor not from my company, 'member?" Quinn wheezed out.

"Yeah, but you still my friend, Quinn!" Amin yelled over his LMG's roar. He destroyed another buggy, evidenced by its exploding gas tank which set its driver and gunner ablaze. In response, a Scorpion fired in his direction and the 80 mm shell barely sailed passed his right shoulder, hitting Branson's walls. Another salvo of rockets screamed from the skies, hitting and destroying one of the 'foxhole' bunkers. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be anyone using that for cover.

A burst of machinegun fire from the Raiders sailed past her right, taking down one of her squadmates. As her squadmates returned fire, two combat medics from another squad began emergency procedures to prevent her comrade from bleeding out. A Scorpion shell was heard sailing towards their position, and her squadmate and the rifle grunts treating him were either chunks of flesh, or flying corpses.

Three more 80 mm shells sailed passed her, hitting another Guardian from D Company. It exploded in violent fashion, sickening screeches of steel giving way to each other before secondary explosions from the cooked-off ammunition blew the gun turret off the burning husk. A pair of missiles from a bike had hit one of the power plants, which caused a power shortage and deactivated the automated railgun towers. Quinn tried to get up and fire a burst from her rifle, only to have a cascade of machinegun fire rip into her left shoulder's armor. Her shots sailed too far to the left and missed the buggy that shot her, and she collapsed from the pain from the bullets that surely penetrated her armor.

Quinn slumped back down at the instaconcrete wall hastily built to barricade the buggies from advancing, but it wouldn't hold for long against the missiles and shells. Even the buggies' machine guns were starting to tear chunks of the wall away, exposing some of their unfortunate comrades to an unexpected death. She sat there, not knowing how bad the bleed out was while the rest of her surviving squad, if there was anyone left, continued the fight.

Just as she braced for her life being ripped from her body, the loud report of railguns ripped her back into reality. The 30th Marines risking their lives to pull out the desperate defenders back to the base, railguns and DMRs ripping apart the footmobile Noddies. Seconds later, Guardians and Pittbulls from A & B Companies poured out of the east entrance. Providing cover and support fire, Amin quickly scooped up Quinn and rushed towards the nearest Guardian. The back door opened up and two heavily armored riflemen helped Amin inside. While the _woosh_ of rockets continued back and forth, Quinn continued to slip away with Amin desperately firing his LMG through one of the fire ports of the APC and prayed that she'll stay with them.

"We need to stabilize her, now!" ordered the commanding Sargent of the squad and three riflemen acting as medics began working on stopping from Quinn dying from blood loss. Tearing the broken and loose pieces of armor, they quickly applied antiseptics and cell-regeneration foam to quickly seal off the wound. And while she was now stable, Quinn would still not be able to fight.

That was the least of their worries however, as the Guardian was now rocked by rocket and mortar fire. While none of the explosive ordnance scored a hit, the shockwaves made the retreat a lot rougher. A Pitbull was heard firing another pair of missiles, only to score a direct hit on a Scorpion a second later. The totaled husk continued to explode as its ammunition store cooked off its remaining shells, causing a chain explosion and claiming three more raider buggies.

"How much longer!?" Amin screamed over the cacophony of war. The commanding officer was about to answer, but the need to provide the answer was no longer necessary. The screams of jet engines got louder and louder until the sonic boom washed over the APC.

"That must be our air cover!" Amin cheered. Sure enough, a squad of 10 Firehawks screamed into view as they dropped various AGMs on the attacking Nod forces with a vengeance. Amin could've sworn he heard a few Nod soldiers scream before their very lives were ended with 1,000 pounds of JDAMs. A few seconds later, the scream of ORCA engines entered the battlefield of sounds as they joined in giving the remaining Brotherhood elements a very bad day.

"A bit late, dontch'a think?" Quinn quipped back. She would have to laugh internally for the pain was too much to actually chuckle.

"You'd rather been talkin' to me as a ghost?" Amin put his LMG to the side and went over to her. "Come on, get some rest. Damn tib-heads won't be messing with us for a while." As she began to pass out from the pain, she wondered if her wish for actual combat was really worth it.

For his part, Amin could watch his friend slip into unconsciousness. She was a wildfire, he'll give her that. But perhaps she wished for more than they bargained for. And with Nod seeming resurgent, perhaps they all did...

* * *

"Are the coordinates locked in, Lieutenant?" called out the commanding officer.

"Yes sir. ETA on Ion Cannon strike is 3 minutes," called out the Lieutenant.

"What's a Nod base doing near the Carolina badlands?" asked another GDI officer.

That question unfortunately would not be answered, as everyone in the room suffered a bullet to the head or a blade into their throat. The Shadows decloaked and finished off anyone that might've survived.

With the target data locked in, the Shadows did not bother to tamper with the controls. Sacrifices had to be made for the main strike to pass, and twenty-five thousand of their brethren was a small drop in the bucket in the grand scheme. Sabotaging all other communication lines except for the uplink towards the GDSS Philadelphia and hardened landlines, the Shadows finally gave the 'ALL CLEAR' signal.

Their answer was responded with several explosions, the Saboteurs working their magic on blowing holes into the facility and the inner walls. Screams and yells could be faintly heard as their assault-oriented brethren began the battle properly, with the Shadows deciding to leave through the 'exits' provided by the demolition experts.

* * *

Many of the GDI soldiers were off-duty or shuffling paperwork, thus they were shocked if not horrified by the sight of Tiberium-crazed madmen and women charging at them with suicide vests not unlike the jihadist bombers used by the GLA. Not that it mattered, as it was the last thing they saw before being vaporized in Tiberium-fueled explosions.

Meanwhile, the main assault force moved north as they advanced past the sabotaged Comm Center. RPGs and people bombs ravaged the southern barracks complex, along with the power plants supplying electricity to the facility. Nod rifle militia cut down the unarmored defenders as they swept through the facility like the Bubonic Plague. It mattered little to what bullets were flying, whether it be 5.56 NATO, 5.45x39 WP, 5.82 DBP87, or the venerable 7.62x39 M42. All suffered a quick, but painful death as the soldiers continued to flood like a living tidal wave of hatred and vindication.

Motorized crews attempted to bring their Predators and Guardians online, only for the living bombs to slam themselves onto the vehicles and explode with violent abandon. The local War Factory was the next to fall, as more suicide bombers and RPGs flew into the faciilty. And rather than taking the local Tiberium silos for themselves, the soldiers decided to 'liberate and spread' the stored Tiberium by blowing the facilities apart.

Even as Goddard erupted in flames, no help came immediately. With lines cut, not many options were left for the defending forces. It mattered little to the rag-tag Nod company, as the remaining soldiers took control of two five-storey office buildings. Any living soul not part of the Brotherhood was executed, whether by bullet, blade, or sufficient application of force and gravity from further heights. After being boarded up and fortified, the soldiers began putting up machine gun and TOW missile emplacements, while RPG troopers traded in their traditional rockets for portable AA launchers.

But it did not occur to Commander Ricardo Vega that it would be the ASAT tower that was the main priority target until the building shook from the impact of the TOW missiles. While the other GDI personnel scrambled to arm themselves with weapons from hidden armories within the facility, Vega could only watch in fear as all his video feeds were nothing but static. Any of his next following orders were met with mixed responses of panic and confusion. Attempts to flee were met by a platoon of Nod riflemen led by a cape-wearing commissar in power armor armed with an improved and man-portable version of the M134 Minigun.

So consumed with failure and despair that he did not realize that he was the only one left alive in the command room. All others had fled to their doom, fought valiantly but vainly, or were butchered inside the room as he cried to himself. It was then he realized that he was being dragged out from under his desk by a red-skinned humanoid figure, or at least he thought it was red skin. He stared in horror as seven more of these creatures stood into his view, their heads covered in helmets and one-way visors. It was then he realized, that these were not mere 'creatures,' but the judges of his impending death.

"W-w-wa-wait! I-I-I'm one of you!" the cowardly commander mumbled. The figures stared at him with what seemed to be bemusement.

"P-P-Pl-please, I-I-I'm R-Ri-Ricardo V-V-Vega," the man continued to plead. "I-I-I am one of the Brotherhood!"

The Shadows continued to watch him with a mix of amusement and disgust upon learning his identity. The commander of Goddard was none other than the nephew of the equally sniveling cowardly excuse of a human being, General Vega. It was then that one of the figures pulled out his PDW and pointed it at the commander.

"Wha-, wa-wa-wait! I'm one of you!" Vega begged. "Please, I'm one of you! PLEASE, DON'T KILL ME!" It was then the armed figure spoke and he Vega realized that no mercy would come to him.

"Your uncle: a disgrace, an incompetent, a coward, and a failure..." the figure spoke with a cold mechanical voice thanks to the suit's voice filter. He pulled the trigger...and clicked empty. Suddenly Vega had a sudden ray of hope: perhaps these soldiers realized-

His thoughts were suddenly ended when something sharp emerged from his forehead.

"...and yourself: a disgrace, an incompetent, a coward, a failure, AND a traitor," the Shadow calmly finished his litany of shame towards the corpse of the commander. To further twist and humiliate the fallen body, the other Shadow who had plunged the knife into Vega's skull twisted the man's neck using the knife in the corpse's skull as leverage until the neck snapped in half. Once he finished rotating the skull into a full 360 degree revolution, the commando took the knife out of the corpse and threw the blade away while the body fell with an unceremonious _thud_.

"Prepare the charges," the lead commando ordered and the others followed. He stared at the desecrated corpse of the pathetic manchild before he too took a small demolition charge and walked away to place it in its designated position.

* * *

Radec's feed shifted from the ongoing battle on the streets of the center to the camera feed of one of his Shadows' helmets as he witnessed the destruction of the GDI ASAT Tower. As the top half of the structure slowly fell off into free fall from its bottom half, Radec could only smile at what he had accomplished. Now, nothing could stand in the way of the Brotherhood.

"And that's it," Ajay's voice wormed into his mind. "Mission's over, Commander. Goddamn, that was a wicked display you showed there." He placed a hand on the Commander before patting him. "I'm kinda jealous now that you managed this."

"It is not yet finished," Radec countered. Tapping onto his wrist comm, he amplifed the volume to its maximum setting before he spoke.

"Brothers and Sisters, this is Commander Gregor Mael Radec. You have served your purpose well, and our mission was a success. I'm afraid I cannot offer you another day to live to continue your struggle against GDI. But rest assured, Kane's blessings are upon you, and you shall receive your just rewards in death. You have lived hard, but you have lived free. Now, die well, my Brothers and Sisters. KANE LIVES IN DEATH!"

"KANE LIVES!" came the reply of the remaining soldiers. Radec's comm unit alerted him to reinforcements from Belvoir and Quantico. Intrigued to how his forces would hold up, he continued to watch the battles from the constant various feeds from his troops as the fell one by one.

* * *

GDI Guardians, Predators, and even a few Wolverines from the Steel Talons detachment at Fort Belvoir burst through the impromptu entrances made by the Predators' shells. Even as rockets from SMAWs, SRAWs, and RPGs flew towards their advance there was little slowing down these mechanical beasts of fury. For every Wolverine struck and destroyed, two more would open fire with twin GAU-19 rotary guns. Every tank that was disabled, three more would open fire.

Not even the ones on anti-air duty were safe as the Marines stationed at Quantico joined the counterattack. GDMC Hammerheads opened fire with twin M61 Vulcans, tearing the AA teams into sizable chunks of long pork. Their landing zone clear, Marine riflemen and women roped down onto the rooftops, with grenadiers not far behind. Between the copious amounts of flash and concussion grenades fired from the grenade launchers, the Marines stormed onto each floor, eliminating any and all insurgents. Brotherhood soldiers fought valiantly and managed to take a few with them, but the two-pronged counterattack proved too much for the Nod occupiers. Even now, Titans from the GDMC branch of the Steel Talons joined the fray after leaving the loading bays of their flybirds.

Confessor Nicholas and his incensed platoon fought with unwavering resolve. Two of his rocket militia took out a Titan after they fired rockets into the knee joints of that particular machine. His minigun turned the faces of armored GDI riflemen into swiss cheese. A couple of lobbed grenades exploded near him, taking out RPG support. His right leg's armor was shredded with a couple pieces of jagged shrapnel embedded in his leg, but he felt little if any pain as he roared his men and women to arms. Returning fire to the grenadiers, two of them were hit in the face and dropped instantly, while another five had their chest armor penetrated but still alive.

The GDI attackers regained the offensive however, as the GDI airborne rifle and grenade troops created an exit for themselves on the north side of the building, open firing at the frenzied mob. Bullets, grenades missiles, and shells were all concentrated at the remaining Nod resistance. After the deadly exchange, the body of the Black Hand Confessor laid silently. His cape torn, his left arm missing along with his right leg a few inches away from the rest of him. His four-eyed visor helmet was the only thing still intact, but its glowing red eyes had gone dull upon the death of its wearer.

As one last act of revenge however, the Saboteurs still within the sabotaged Comm Center armed the charges placed at various street points, intersections, and buildings. Various IEDs strewn across GDI's path would explode without warning, taking out a Wolverine or two and occasionally a Guardian and its troop component. But in spite of the deadly maze they created, GDI mechanized forces pushed on. The Saboteurs realized that they too would not survive and as one final grand gesture the two demo troops set off the rest of their charges. GDI forces who survived the blast described the destruction of the Comm Center as 'surreal' and 'almost beautiful.'

* * *

Out in the cold, airless ocean of space, a metal object reached its implied destination. Unaware of the situation down below, it became irrelevant to Ion Cannon Emplacement Satellite-27 as it began its final stages prior to commencing fire. Even with no additional data coming from Goddard, ICES-27 had all the necessary target coordinates along with secondary and tertiary data inputs placed before Goddard's link to the metallic platform was severed.

Internal capacitors began to pump energy into the central weapons system as the satellite zeroed in on the target location. Onboard computers within the immense, narrow platform cross-referenced geographic and stellar patterns of the space of land at thousands of times per second to redundantly confirm this is the correct target. External thrusters meanwhile occasionally flared to life to keep the satellite within the correct area and trajectory in spite of Earth's rotation.

The main weapons system reaching full power, eight smaller projections extended outward from the immense shaft of the main cannon. The projections rotated another, smaller ion weapon each, which pulsated with glowing white-blue energy before the eight projections discharged the blue beams of light.

* * *

Commander Reis, having recovered from his temporary retirement thanks to Major Koening, watched the satellite feed as the platform's onboard cameras zoomed in on the target area. The eight beams of light slowly spun around the area, the beams rippling the air and disrupting the ions within the cloaking generators. The Brotherhood base that was revealed was exceedingly large, yet the Commander and Major Koening still could not believe its size. The complex stretched among a five mile radius which was teeming with weapons emplacements, Hands of Nod, overground War Factories, and the numerous power plants supplying power to the base and the massive disruption towers that relied on ionic manipulation and displacement to keep the base effectively hidden.

The beams slowly converged towards each other, every revolution brought the beams closer and closer. Any man, vehicle, or building in the path of these bolts of plasma were scorched. All who watched the feed from inside the comm center watched in awe as the beams danced closer to the epicenter.

* * *

Senior Lieutenant Crosby watched the lights show from the hills his platoon was overlooking. Along with his platoon, the rest of 4th Battalion that was not incapacitated or in the medic bays all watched with gleeful interest. Whether outside on the hills or the surrounding area, everyone present wanted to see Nod's invisible fortress turn to ash. A few automated guard towers were placed in case the Brotherhood got anymore ideas, but it was more an application of 'better safe than sorry' than an actual concern.

As the lasers converged upon its final epicenter, Crosby and the rest of the crew held up their left fists in triumph, before closing their eyes from the incoming shockwave and intensively bright light.

* * *

ICES-27's eight beams finally converged into a single pillar of superheated plasma, scorching the epicenter and the surrounding area.

And then, ICES-27's main cannon joined in the final dance, unleashing the rest of its stored energy into the cascade of light. The 9 separate beams turned into a mile-wide pillar of death, vaporizing everything within a five-mile radius. Any troops witnessing the thirty second-long dance followed by the explosion had to be crazy or at least properly shielded or sheltered, lest they want to lose their gift of sight.

The blast left a blackened crater ten miles wide. Any hills next to the black and red complex were utterly vaporized, along with the base itself. Whirlwinds of dust and twisted remains of jagged metal frames were the only evidence of what took place, giant blackened crater aside.

The deed finished, ICES-27 went back into standby, awaiting new target coordinates. Coordinates that would not come for a while.

* * *

"Alright, boys and girls, we're done here! Let's pack up and move!" yelled one of the platoon's Lieutenants. As the soldiers of the 4th Battalion and 30th Marines begun deactivating Camp Branson's facilities and began placing building demolition charges on them to prevent Brotherhood capture, only the comm center remained operational with a single power plant keep it running.

Commander de Reis had his first real test as a battlefield Commander. And from the looks of it, he might as well failed. Over thirty percent of 4th Battalion's strength was gone, while another five percent wounded or otherwise incapacitated. D Company was virtually gone and is temporarily fused with C Company until new commanders and personnel can be filled to reconstitute the decimated group. While the ORCAs of the 55th Fighter Wing in Langley had already refueled on the impromptu helipads to escort the GDI expedition back to DC, the Commander had one final briefing with General Granger before they shut down the base entirely.

"Well, what's done is done, Commander," Granger sighed after hearing Commander Reis's report. "In all honesty, Commander, it could've been worse had you not snapped out of it. Then I would have you court-martial'd."

Reis took these words to heart, knowing that he almost screwed up the mission by going into temporary retirement due to shock. He had already accepted responsibility for all the deaths his force had been inflicted on and was prepared to give his resignation.

"However, Commander Reis, if you think I'm going to accept that letter of resignation you are about to send me from your comm link, then you can think again." Reis was taken aback, unaware that Granger knew what Reis was planning to do thanks to his EVA unit reporting back to the Pentagon's EVAs. "I placed you with this responsibility because I believed you can handle it. Yes, there were indeed a few bumps, but you managed to pull yourself together and make it count when it matters most. Plus, Major Koening is an outstanding officer and was willing to take command because he did not want you and this mission to fail. There was a lot more at stake than just your personal responsibility to those men and women, Commander. We all should be glad the rest of you survived rather than under Brotherhood captivity."

With that, the comm link between the two was severed and Commander Reis stood motionless for a few seconds.

"Come on, Commander, let's go back home," Major Koening suggested.

"Right," Reis replied, turning his back from the monitor and walked out the door with the Major as the lights began to shut off from the facility. It won't be long before the facility was designated to be demolished by the charges already in place.

* * *

"It is done," Radec replied to the holographic display of General Qatar. Her features expressed a warm, yet sinister smile upon hearing the good news. She was standing near a stained-glass window, the opaque red glass filtering the sunlight into a blood-red light.

"Excellent, you have performed well," she praised the soldier. She paused for a second, then looked at him again. "Hold on, His Emminence wishes to speak to you."

Radec watched as she bowed out of the screen. In her place, the gleaming shiny dome of Nod's true prophet emerged before his full face came into view. Radec, Buchanan, and Ajay all bowed before his presence.

"Rise, my children, there is no need," Kane gestured, still smiling. The trio stood back up in place, awaiting his next words.

"Kane," Ajay replied absently, awed by looking upon his real face for the first time.

"Your Eminence," Buchanan solemnly greeted back.

"Your Will has been done," Radec added.

"You have done well, Commander," Kane spoke. His tone felt warm and nurturing, yet his eyes gleamed with dark ambition and intent. "Your execution of this mission far exceeded my expectations. As a reward, I have decided to give you a present..."

On his wrist comm unit displayed a holographic image of a button. Ajay and Buchanan only stared wide in shock, while Radec and Kane knew the importance of this gesture.

"Your comm unit has been linked with my command console. Press that button, and it will be as if I had pushed it myself." Radec could only stare at the red hologram of the button and surrounding console, unsure of this was real or a cruel prank on the Messiah's part.

"Go ahead," Kane reassured. "Press the button. Begin the Third Tiberium War. . . .the war to end all wars." With a sudden raised fist he shouted, "inscribe your place in modern history with the blood of GDI!"

Radec understood what that meant. He was about to send GDI into a firey spiral of chaos and death, of all his former comrades, friends, and family. One touch, and the Brotherhood would begin its ascent in a nuclear fireball. Hesitating no longer, Radec swiped his hand along the hologram, touching the button. The console gleamed a bright red, and disappeared.

"This is the end for them," Radec replied with a dark smile.

"No, my child," Kane replied with his trademark sharklike smile. "It has only begun. . . ."

* * *

Time has been better days for the emptied lands of what was once the epicenter of a mighty empire. Once the Conqueror of the Nile River and the Land of Pharaohs, the sands of time have run out for the region once known as Egypt. From 3,200 B.C to 2030 A.D, the Land of the Pyramids had seen its fair share of massive, epic battles. It's country's past rulers would be in awe of the weapons waged in these battles, the likes of which were never seen before. Even one renegade Nod leader, the former general turned double agent and turncoat Hassan, attempted to emulate himself as Pharaoh of the Brotherhood before being struck back down to earth by Anton Slavik and his loyalist Nod forces.

With its fierce, wild whipping winds, it scattered millions of sand and Tiberium particulates across the landscape. And across the vastless desert, metal graves and remains of bombed-out structures littered the wasteland. Burned-out husks of Titan and Juggernaut walkers desecrated the sacred plains while torn apart vestiges of burrowed Tick Tanks littered across the forgotten battlefield. Defunct Obelisks of Light were occasionally scattered about, their lethal weapons left impotent as the structures that housed rusted and weathered, a few collapsing under its own weight. And what was once the great city of Cairo was now an abandoned, decaying husk. Houses long rotted and bombed, skyscrapers toppling under its weight, weathered by decades of war, rust, and decay. Debris littered the once great streets, and inhabitants long gone. Fields of Tiberium once encompassed the region, but are conspicuously absent from the region save for the windborne particles which would occasionally latch onto the dead land and begin its regeneration and growth anew.

The cursed land has long been abandoned overground, but life still flourished. GDI spy satellites and reconnaissance efforts have not been able to find any source of activity, be it Brotherhood, Forgotten or otherwise. But just like their blunder at the Carolina badlands, Sky Sentry failed to pick up the massive underground energy signatures of this vast land.

And it was at that moment that the sands began to shift as the ground began to open as if to swallow the dunes whole. A large metal platform begun to rise from the ashes of the desolate earth, finally settling overground. As the sand continued to shift and fall, an immense missile stood erect, supported by a tall latticework metal support frame. Emblazoned with the Brotherhood's scorpion tail, the tall, shiny black missile began to engage its thrusters. Alarm klaxons sounded off, warning its operators of its impending launch. As its technicans and other workers took shelter back underground, advanced Tiberium-based fuels began to burn into the rocket's thrusters and the metal frame began to collapse away from the missile before it took its final launch off the ground. As the Brotherhood personnel began shouting praises to Kane and glory to the Brotherhood, the massive ASBM vanished in minutes in the twilight sky, carrying the Brotherhood's destiny upward into space. . . .

* * *

 _ **Brief Summarization of Egypt: Updated June 5, 2047**_

 _ **Official Name: Arab Republic of Egypt**_

 ** _Created: Old Kingdom created in 3,150 BC; Dynasty of Muhammad Ali created in July 9, 1805; modern-day state established following independence from the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland in February 28, 1922; Soviet-occupied 'People's Republic' era established on May 30, 1949; Republic era established following post-Soviet transitionary period on June 18, 1953; New Constitution Era established on January 18, 2014 until its cessation of existence due to overzealous Tiberium infestation_**

 ** _Government: de-jure unitary semi-presidental republic; de-facto authoritarian unitary republic with military backing until the country's termination._**

 ** _Capital: Alexandria, following GLA's destruction of Cairo with hybrid 'anthrax'/Tiberium chemical ICBMs; Cairo from 969 AD until 2019_**

 ** _Population: 37,562,846 (government estimate via 2020 census) prior to evacuation, largest population was recorded on the 2006 census with am estimated population of 72,798,000 people_**

 ** _Currency: Egyptian pound_**

 ** _Languages Spoken: Egyptian Arabic as national language under the New Constitutional era; Coptic, Egyptian, Greek, Berber, and other Arabic dialects were spoken but heavily persecuted until the New Constitutional Era, tolerated foreign languages for international politics and business included English, French, German, and Italian_**

 ** _History: In ancient times, Egypt was once a fertile land capable of founding an empire. Under King Menes, Upper Egypt and Lower Egypt (former modern-day Sudan) were united into a single powerful kingdom. Over the course of millennia, dynasties of Pharaohs ruled the land whether the land was unified, fractured, or as part of a conquered domain of another empire._**

 ** _The beginnings of the modern-day state of Egypt can be traced back to the founding dynasty of Muhammad Ali Pasha, also known as the Alawiyya Dynasty. An Albanian General fighting for the Ottoman Empire, he broke away from his employers after defeating Napoleon Bonaparte in Egypt and instead conquered all of Upper and Lower Egypt once more before turning his attention to the Levant, and later the entirety of the Ottoman domain. While his ambitions were thwarted, he had enough support from the Egyptians to declare himself King of Egypt and Sudan. However, attempts to modernize Egypt to compete with the increasingly industriaized Europe and North America were met with mixed success or abject failure, with partial responsibility to Ali's successors who used the wealth and European loans for their excessively hedonistic lifestyle._**

 ** _Following the British conquest of Egypt and Sudan and the security of the new Suez Canal acquired, the dynasty became a British protectorate. To the Egyptians, they were effectively colonized subjects, second- and third-class citizens in their own homeland. Following World War I, Egyptians took advantage of Britain's turmoil with Ireland and unleashed their own revolution. It was put down by British colonial forces, but its goal was achieved on Febu_** ** _ary 28, 1922 when the UK allowed Egyptian independence._**

 ** _Egypt's monarchy only lasted for two decades before a socialist revolution took hold of the nation, which alarmed the European nations and the United States. The preliminary workers' council then proclaimed itself the Egyptian Socialist Republic, but was crushed by European troops. However, this drew attention to the Soviet Union and the Communist nation began arming and openly supporting the socialist rebels. During WWII, the Soviets 'liberated' the Egyptians from the UK and set up a sattelite state known as the Egyptian People's Republic. The people of Egypt proved to be rebellious and did not appreciate Stalin hijacking their country's struggle against European imperialism. While Soviet forces secured the Suez Canal, Egypt declared itself a neutral nation in the global comflict. European and American spies and 'advisors' reluctantly worked with anti-Soviet Egyptians to help liberate the country from Stalin's grip. The country was liberated in 1951 from Soviet occupation, but the Allies failed to dissuade the Egyptian people from socialist revolution. In 1953, General Gamal Nasser and his officer cadre took control of the country and wrote a new constitution based off the old Egyptian Constitution than the Soviet-created 'People's Constitution' and dropped the People's from the country's name. To the Allies and the rest of the world, Egypt was finally saved from the Communist meanace. But Nasser and the Egyptian military had other plans, combining Socialism with pan-Arabism to unite the entire Middle East against western post-colonial imperialism. The United Arab Republic experiment ended in failure due to competing ideologues, but Egypt kept its Arab Republic namesake. Nasser suffered a heart attack and died in 1970 and Anwar Sadat took control. He was then assassinated by Islamist military officers in 1981._**

 _ **Until the First Tiberium War, Egypt was ruled by former General and President Hosni Mubarak who was aligned to GDI due to fears of Islamist takeover. Once hostilities broke out between the global UN force and the Brotherhood, Egypt declared its alliegance to the UNGDI forces. However, Nod forces have repeatedly attacked and captured the country, which with each successful recapture damaging Egypt's infranstructure even more. The population loss exceeded 59 percent, the result of murdering every Egyptian precieved to be "GDI collaberators," leaving only Islamists and Nod sympathizers. After Nod fractured and the First Tiberium War ended with GDI's victory, Egypt's people overthrew Nod's puppet leader and elected Mohamed Morsi to the Presidency. Praised by Western nations as a wise and responsible leader, Morsi would prove to be far worse. Atrocities against his own people were commonplace, people who spoke Coptic or ancient Egyptian were persecuted heavily with churches burned and people executed. Worse, GDI special ops encountered evidence that he was connected to the Brotherhood. With covert GDI support, during the Arab Spring of 2011, the military ousted Morsi and while the interim government they established was brutal, the average Egyptian citizen was once more given the right to vote and elected Hamdeen Sabahi as President. Egypt stayed quiet until the rise of the Global Liberation Army, in which the petty Egyptian tribal leader 'Prince Kassad' aligned himself with the organization. In what turned out to be yet another Nod creation with an Islamic twist, the GLA re-took the country under it's predecessor's behalf. As US-led GDI and Chinese PLA forces worked with the Egyptian military to re-establish the legitimate government, an ecological tragedy was struck when GLA agents blew up several stored Tiberium plants, covering the southern half of the country in the invasive alien crystal. Humanitarian evacuations saved the rest of Egypt's population, but the once proud nation was now yet another successful claim by the green interstellar rot and the land once more flew the banners of the Brotherhood, along with the flag of its Islamic counterpart.**_

 ** _Their control was short-lived however, as GDI forces managed to defeat the GLA once and for all. Its leaders executed or imprisoned, many Nod-affiliated supporters withdrew to fight another day while the rest of the GLA was left to fall apart. One of these leaders, the former Egyptian General Hassan, secretly defected to GDI to help rid of the GLA out of Egypt. In return for being placed as head of the Brotherhood, Hassan promised to leak information about any potential threats to GDI hegemony. The arrangement went surprisingly smooth until the execution of Anton Slavik was interrupted by Nod loyalists, and by rallying the Brotherhood around him Hassan fell back down to Earth and was executed. The land continued to be fought over by GDI forces and Nod guerrillas. When the Second Tiberian War and Firestorm Crisis ended, GDI withdrew all its military assets from the area, save for reconnaissance elements._**

 _ **Egypt and northern Sudan were once known as Red Zone 13 until Tiberium infestation expanded west and the European Red Zone 1 took over much of the Middle East and Central Asia (Red Zone 3), merging with R-3 and R-13. Strangely enough, recent GDI reconnaissance efforts found no traces of Tiberium infestation. Diehard GDI officials believed the Brotherhood of Nod had harvested the entire nation dry and are using the green crystal to create a weapon of mass destruction; GDI civilian officials have not made official comment on Egypt's sudden absence of Tiberium growth.**_

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Woohoo! Finished another chapter!**

 **Uh, yeah. Sorry it took so long, everyone. Was struggling with a second bout of depression for a while. But I'm steadily recovering, although I may relapse from time to time.**

 **But finally, we're about to enter Act I! . . .after one more chapter. I will try to finish that at fast as possible, but no promises.**

 **Thanks for your continued support, guys. Take care, everyone.**


	5. Chapter 4: There Goes The Neighborhood

_**Command and Conquer: Tiberium Saga: Third Tiberium War**_

* * *

 _"War is simply the continuation of political intercourse with the addition of other means. We deliberately use the phrase 'with the addition of other means' because we also want to make it clear that war in itself does not suspend political discourse or change it into something different. . . In essentials that intercourse continues, irrespective of the means it employs, the mainlines along which military events progress, and to which they are restricted, are political lines that continue throughout the war into the subsequent peace."_

 _-Carl von Clausewitz, On War, 1832_

* * *

 _ **Chapter IV: There Goes the Neighborhood**_

"I hope you had time to think about what I said, Commander." General Granger's face appeared on Commander Reis' Comcom interface as the 4th Battalion of the 103rd flew back to DC. "Nod is clearly planning something, and judging by the size of that force you exposed, it's a major offensive. I've already called for an emergency DNI meeting, but the timing couldn't have been worse. The directors are all up in the _Philadelphia_ at that damn energy summit-"

"General!" Granger turned to the origin of the soft-spoken voice which was none other than Lieutenant Telfair. Or normally it would be soft, but her outburst was more of panic and alarm. Granger saw a similar expression back when he was a Major prior to the Second Tiberium War. "I'm sorry to interrupt, General, but I've just been informed-"

"What is it, Sandra?"

"There's been an attack on Goddard Space Center in Maryland," she breathed, as she pulled out a remote from one of her uniform's pockets. The main monitor screen from Granger's desk shifted, revealing the gold swooping eagle that symbolized GDI's national emblem. "We should be getting visual data in a moment." The monitor flickered on and Granger and Reis couldn't believe their eyes.

 _My God, it is._ Goddard Space Center was up in flames, thick black smoke rising from what remains of the facility. Battle cams from various soldiers and vehicles confirmed the worst: the Brotherhood had successfully infiltrated and attacked the facility. As he sifted through the various feeds, one feed caught a glimpse of a six-eyed helmeted figure with his remaining ragtag platoon firing away at GDI response teams. _This was not a random terrorist act._ He knew exactly the one reason Nod would be insane enough to even attempt such an attack...

"Good Lord, do you realize what they have done!?" Granger turned his attention back to Commander Reis. "Nod's just taken out the northeastern ASAT defense system! All of our anti-missile capability!"

"The _Philadelphia..._ " she whispered. For the first time of her life, Lieutenant Telfair saw fear creep up on the old General's face. She finally asked, "what do we do now, sir?"

"Get me online with the _Philadelphia!_ We have an imminent surface-to-space missile attack! Send a general alarm across B-2! And warn everyone that Nod is about to launch a full-scale offensive!" The force and authority of his voice gave pause to several of the various desk jockeys and busybodies in the room, but they knew that General Granger was not one to raise his voice like that unless it was something wrong.

"You, get me an uplink to the GDSS Philadelphia!" The Lieutenant courier stood there, still in shock before the General grabbed his collar. "Did you hear me!? The Philadelphia is about to suffer an imminent surface-to-space missile attack, so get me a line there now!"

"Y-, yes, sir!" As the courier dropped his files on Granger's desk before running to the nearest console to begin establishing a link to the space station, Granger had a wind of dread touch his spine. Commander Reis on the other side of the monitor must've felt a similar chill of dread. _We maybe already too late..._

* * *

The car lurched suddenly, brakes screaming as the car came to a complete stop. Redmond Boyle cursed out loud as coffee spilled all over his lap. He tried to dry it as much as possible with the limited supply of napkins before giving up, frowning, then returned his attention to the flatscreen before him.

"Forgive my French, Madam Director," the dark-skinned elder said with a smile, in spite of his current predicament.

"Understandable, Commissioner Boyle," the gray-haired elderly woman responded as she accepted his apology. "Seeing as you're the Treasury Commissioner, I'm sure you've lost your civility a few times before."

Boyle chuckled, taking the joke in jest. "Well, Madam Director, seeing that I'm in charge of all the finances of GDI's administration, I can't really afford to not keep my cool. Lots of accusations of corruption from pretty much everyone, even when I'm telling the truth."

"Well, while I don't envy you, I'm glad you're doing the best you can nevertheless," the GDI Director smiled back at him.

"If I may be frank, Director Kinsbur-," the Treasury Commissioner began before a young officer clad in garrison fatigues began whispering something in Kinsburg's ear. She frowned, nodded her head, and dismissed the officer with her hand as soon as he removed his face from the screen.

"Hold that thought, Boyle. Seems General Granger requests an emergency meeting from me," she scowled. "This apparently can't wait, never mind that I'm an extremely busy woman."

Boyle chuckled again. "That 'General Jack Granger', I presume?"

"The very same," Kinsburg muttered with disdain.

"To be fair, Madam Director," Boyle began, "I believe he is the right man for the job. Yes, he is overly paranoid, but a veteran of some two or three decades of war against the Brotherhood will do that to anyone."

"Yes, I am fully aware of that, it's why I put him there in the first place," Director Kinsburg stated. "Do not get me wrong, Commissioner Boyle. I sympathize with Generals Granger, Solomon, and Cortez. Cutting the military budget was the hardest thing I could do. Hell, I initially sided with them, for Christ's sake. But the rest of the Directorate and the public at large wanted to focus on ecology and reclaiming more territory for Blue Zone conversion." She sighed once more as the red button continued to flash. "Ever since then, everyone in the military turned against me. What else do they want from me, goddamnit!? Ugh, maybe I made a big mista-" She paused before looking at the flashing red button, indicating the General's desperate call for a meeting. "He can wait, damn it. Now, what were you saying, Commissioner?"

"Well, we both know GDI's official stance on Tiberium is _containment and eradication._ I think we should propose an amendment to that stance a bit."

"Go on, Commissioner," she stated, though her face said otherwise.

"Well, look at what we built here. Multi-layered durable polymer composites, magnetic accelerators many times more powerful than the one built at CERN, quantum computers, refined and useful exoskeleton suits for civilian and military work, routine orbital flight, cars, phones, and other goods of equal or higher quality than those of old. . . that was from Tiberium! If it wasn't for that crystal, we'd still be stuck in some stagnant 'Information Age' or whatever social historians would call it! Hell, we put up thousands of satellites into orbit within a year, as opposed to a decade!"

"Tiberium is still a dangerous anomaly regardless of its many applications," the Director voiced her concerns. "If there's one thing I'm never compromising on, it's that Tiberium is a dangerous alien matter. No amount of good can ever pale in comparison to what it has done to our planet."

"Yes it is dangerous, and I'm no fool," the Commissioner continued. "But rather than get rid of it entirely, why not make it work for us? We did that when radioactive elements were used to make energy and weapons. Hell, the first use of an atomic weapon was the United States! The Soviets made sure to be the second, but that's not the point here. Rather than destroy the very substance that powers our very civilization, why not pursue a _contain and exploit_ policy? Destroy any runway or rogue deposits, fine, but keep the ones we can monitor and use for ourselves."

"You could've been an ambassador," Kinsburg chuckled. "I may disagree with you, but you have quite a silver tongue there."

"No, ambassadors are politicians, which means they're bona-fide liars. I wish to use my gift to speak the truth, not push for the bottom line."

"So I'm a liar, huh?" Kinsberg chuckled. "Nevertheless, Commissioner Boyle, I-" An loud, booming klaxon sounded off and Kinsburg glanced a look on her right. Her face went from casual to outright confusion and terror. "Oh my God, that's-!"

The video screen went into static as the other side was lost to whatever just happened. For Boyle, dread welled up inside him. _It can't be...could it be the same people who attacked the Treasury Building a few days ago!?_

"EVA, find out what's going on," Boyle demanded.

 **Attempting to reconnect with the GDSS Philadelphia, Stand By...**

 **Reconnection Failed**

"No," Boyle paled. "EVA, what happened to the _Philadelphia_!?"

 **Final Reports from the Electronic Virtual Assistants on-board the GDSS Philadelphia reported a large object heading towards the Philadelphia's orbit**

"And what was that object!?"

"What's going on back there, Commissioner?"

"Just shut up and drive to the nearest safehouse!"

 **Preliminary scans prior to the Philadelphia's loss of contact indicate that the object is ninety percent consistent with all known Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles**

"But how!? What about the ASAT Tower in Goddard!?"

 **Searching...**

 **Three minutes ago, a general alarm was issued by General Jack Granger from the Pentagon for Blue Zone 2 warning of a massive Nod assault.**

 **There was also a warning against possible ASBM attack against the _Philadelphia_ and other orbital assets.**

 **Thirty-three minutes ago, an alarm transmitted through laser was issued regarding a possible attack on the Goddard Space Center in Greenbelt, Maryland.**

Boyle's grip on his coffee mug slipped and coffee fell on his lap, but mostly on the limo's carpet. _No, this can't be. This can't be Nod's doing!_

 **Searching...**

 **One minute ago, General Jack Granger issued an alarm for all 23 Blue Zones regarding a possible heavy assault by the Brotherhood.**

 **Global traffic across MilitaryNet has increased one thousand nine-hundred and thirty-seven percent within the past ten minutes.**

 **Eighty-four percent of incoming queries are in regards of loss of contact with the _Philadelphia._**

 **Fifteen percent of incoming queries are in regards to issuing general alerts for the Blue Zones.**

"What do you we do now, sir?" The driver was clearly terrified by what Boyle's EVA has just said, but Boyle was now angry at the young man.

"Are you deaf, or something!?" Boyle snarled. "Get us to the nearest military safehouse, on the double!" _My God, Nod is back..._

* * *

 **Philadelphia Uplink Terminated**

Commander Reis knew what that meant. They, Nod, had just succeeded in taking out the majority of GDI's civilian and military leadership. And with the _GDSS Philadelphia_ destroyed, along with the Goddard Space Center, GDI could no longer deploy its ion cannons or any of its other sattelite-based weapons without risking being fired on or hijacked by Nod.

"EVA, reroute directly to the Pentagon!" As his EVA unit continued to reconnect to Granger, Reis realized that he could still access the Philadelphia's logs.

"And get me the _Philadelphia's_ logs within the last five minutes as well!" His Comcom whirred and beeped not a half a a second later, indicating the second operation had finished. "Analyze logs!"

 **Scanning...**

 **Final reports from the _Philadelphia_ EVA units reported a large object that is ninety percent consistent with all known Intercontinental and ASAT Ballistic Missiles**

 **Massive thermal, electromagnetic, and radiological readings were recorded point eighty-two seconds before detonation of the missile and the _Philadelphia_**

 **Telemetry and Telematric data was unable to pinpoint exact coordinates of missile launch; closest estimates point to the Eastern Hemisphere, near the Tropic of Cancer. It is probable that the launch was from Northern Africa or Eastern Europe due to previous Nod interactions.**

Reis could not process all that information, in spite of the obvious. There was nothing that could be added that could possibly make things better, save for the missile making a miraculous miss. It was at that moment that Major Koening looked upon the Commander's face and frowned.

"Commander, what's wrong?" The Major continued to study his non-responsiveness, realizing that something must've gone terribly wrong. "What's going on? What happened, Commander?"

* * *

The pirated feed from one of GDI's Sky Sentry satellites proved their success: the tall, slender, oppressively white-gray shape that was once the _GDSS Philadelphia_ , has now been obliterated with righteous fire. The ASAT ballistic missile had been built covertly over the past decade, but was never thought to be fired...until today. Radec, Buchanan, and Ajay could not keep their eyes off their success until their leader spoke once more.

"The wheels of war are in motion, our destiny within our grasp," Kane spoke with reverence. "The _Philadelphia_ was only the beginning."

The pirated feed then switched back to the Messiah, who stood up and leaned forward over his desk, his face oozed confidence and his eyes gleamed with predatory ambition and malevolence. "Our forces will sweep like a great plague across the Earth. Every Blue Zone, will feel our _wrath_ ," the Prophet ended with such intensity that the other three bowed before his image.

"What is that you wish of me, Your Eminence?" Radec solemnly asked, with his true feelings awaiting what he believed would be his most exciting and destructive task yet.

"For you, my son, I have reserved the most important task of all: taking the Northeastern Blue Zone. Our armies flow forth even now, but you are already in place to stab the hidden dagger of our Brotherhood into the heart of our massed enemies." Kane motioned the three officers to rise, and Kane simply smiled when they did. "A secret attack force is waiting for your command; you must show no mercy, _for GDI deserves none_."

"As you wish," Radec replied with subdued excitement as thoughts of great violence upon his former brothers-in-arms would finally come true in just under two hours.

* * *

"Hey, hermano. Wake up."

"Mffphurghsesh," came the intelligent reply of the sleeping Hispanic man. The other man sighed, walked across their cold, gray room towards their simple desk, picked up a biker's helmet, and threw it at the sleeping figure.

"Ow! Pinche pendejo, the fuck was that for!?"

"Wake up, asshole. It's time for war," the other man answered.

"It's always time for war with you," the sleeper snarled. "How do I know you're not shitting with me again?"

"Because of this," the brother showed the sleeper the image of the destruction of the _GDSS Philadelphia_ space station in the pirated feed of their cheap television monitor.

"Goddamn, they finally did it, huh?" the sleepyhead was now fully awake and alert. "Well, let's get this party started, huh?"

"Damn right, hermano!"

* * *

It had been two hours since everyone was placed on standby, but now Brother-Flight Colonel Curtis Spaatz was now in his fighter's cockpit. As he placed his helmet on his head, built-in laser scanners on his helmet's brim hummed to life and scanned his retinas. Even though he has gone through this hundreds of times before during his days in a Venom scout VTOL craft, he still blinked as the intense lights scanned his retinas. In spite of his blinking, the helmet correctly identified its owner and his holographic HUD lit up. The display requested his activation code, and Spaatz simply moved his right arm onto the pilot's chair arm. Thin steel cables snakes their way towards his arm before jacking into the connection ports in his cybernetic right arm. Now connected literally to the bomber, Spaatz saw schematics of his Vertigo before disappearing and his HUD was up and running.

Soft cloth pressed around the edges of his eyes as he activated the implants in his eyes, locking them open. Small chemical pumps hissed soothingly, pumping fluids into his eyes to keep them from drying out during this long flight mission. His left arm, also another prosthetic, began inputing a complex string of letters and numbers before the Vertigo finally roared to life. The Tiberium-derived fuels pumped into the fuel tanks as his bomber began to slowly rise from the platform, slightly jerking left and right as the VTOL engines tried to stabilize the bomber.

" _Ares Lead_ to _Control_ , ready to go," Spaatz said calmly.

" _Control_ to _Ares Lead_ , all bombers are checking in ready," replied the female comms officer for the control tower. "Mission beginning in five, four, three, two, one. . ."

The engines screamed and Spaatz' bomber took off, followed by three more from his platform. In total, 60 Vertigos of Ares Wing from the barren wastelands of western Tennessee were heading straight into the Northeastern Blue Zone.

He looked through his glass-lined cockpit and saw all the planes in his wing. . . then they were gone. Satisfied that their cloaking devices were working, Spaatz patched into their channel.

 _"Ares Lead_ to Ares Wing," Spaatz called over. "We're heading into Blue Zone 2, your targets have been uploaded onto your bombers' computers. We will be holding radio silence for the duration of this mission." It was important for the men and women to keep their radio chatter to zero, because even if they bypassed all stealth-detecting sensors GDI radio operators can still pick up on their comm signals, alerting GDI garrisons to incoming stealth bomber attacks.

"Good luck and good hunting," Spaatz finished. "Peace Through Power."

"The Technology of Peace," came the simultaneous replies of his subordinates before all went silent.

* * *

"Hey, got any Snickers with ya today?"

"Box should be in back."

"Great, I'm gonna go get one."

Sergeant Oliver Fallsworth continued to swap channels on his monitor, while his subordinate came back with candy in hand. He stopped at the W3N News Channel, as the reporter began his segment.

"And in global news today, the annual GDI Energy Summit is still underway, aboard the space station _Philadelphia,"_ came the professional, but generic droning of reporter William Frank. "Our own Cassandra Blair reports on the landmark goals set for this year's summit. Cassandra?"

The image of the television monitor shifted to show the pleasant face of Cassandra Blair, the red-headed British Canadian who recently transferred to the DC office. As usual, the lady wasted no time.

When top administrators return to work tomorrow," she explained, gesturing behind her to show off one of the Admin Buildings that GDI's civilian leadership uses when on the planet. "They're hoping to unveil a new fiscal agenda. According to Director Kinsburg, one of the key talking points this year's summit is resource allocation from defence to ecology."

"What a bunch of shit," Fallsworth growled before switching channels once more.

* * *

Furious honking blared onto the crowded freeway of Interstate 495, to which the driver of the car that was honking simply kept pressing the button.

"Come on, asshole, I haven't got all day!"

Colonel (Ret.) Nick Seymour Parker was a lot of things, but one thing that stood out the most was his "colorful" personality. At least that was how the public saw him after he retired from the military in 2039. Since then, many civilians saw him as an unstable, raving right-wing lunatic calling for the head of every person suspected of being linked to the Brotherhood of Nod.

Not that he cared all that much. Even in news debate pieces and talk shows, 'Havoc" as he was known back then, the aging Colonel still believed that Kane still lives amongst them and it was only a matter of time before GDI gets "its ass handed to them." In his mind, until the Brotherhood ceased to exist there was no time to stop the war to focus on "environmentally-friendly measures and ecologically-sustainable projects."

His anger only grew when he saw the face of William Frank on his car's flatscreen monitor. "They're still talking about that goddamn summit," Parker snarled. That mentality, _that very mentality,_ was the same mentality that started the Second Tiberian War. All because the dumb-ass civies in _fucking_ Anchorage, Alaska, told General Solomon to simply monitor the Brotherhood. And look where that got them: their double agent, Hassan, was publicly executed in a Nod rally signifying Kane's return and yet another world war started.

And now, that same mentality has cost GDI all their best weapons. All those hovercraft and walker designs, scrapped and thrown in the proverbial trashcan, all because the politicians wanted to be more "economical." Parker loved tanks, all things military in general actually, but he hated the fact that it was in due part to replace the Wolverine and Titan mechanized walkers that were used in the Second Tiberian War. Thankfully, the Steel Talons division under the late General Jousha Mitchell still had brains, and kept all those designs; and it was because of that foresight that GDI now had the Slingshot AA platform and that new Disruptor Mk. II (like everyone else in the military, Parker refused to call them 'Shatterers'). They even kept and improved upon the Hover MRLS platform, now renamed the Hellfire. And tank goodness they kept and improved the Wolverine and Titan walkers, though they could not save the Mammoth Mk. II walker.

And that's what burned Parker the most: the fact that they invested in all these technologies, yet a couple reports of the walkers getting their legs blown off by missiles and charges planted by suicidal maniacs and suddenly its time to call it quits!? The Mammoth Mk. II, in his mind, was the epitome of walker technology. It had four legs, which meant one could be taken out but the machine would keep going with mild hindrance. _But no, the stupid liberal bureaucrats had to go and shut down all those facilities! Even the goddamn Socialists and Communists loyal to GDI thought this was a huge mistake, for God's sake!_

"With the eradication of Tiberium now viewed as a more pressing concern, rather than the containment of-"

"Excuse the interruption, but we've received breaking news on the Philadelphia," Frank's voice interrupted Havoc's thoughts as he looked towards the screen. "Apparently, moments ago, there was an accident." The screen showed otherwise, as the personal camera shakily captured a bolt of light coming from the camera's corner of view.

"You fucking dipshit, this was no accident!" Parker snarled, as the surface-to-space ballistic missile zoomed into the camera's view before the feed went out.

"It's. . . obviously, something has gone terribly wrong."

"Yeah, like your birth," Parker quipped.

"We're going to do our best to confirm what we're all seeing, but at this time, we have no idea what could possibly have caused a tragedy of this magnitude."

Parker simply punched the screen, but only enough to vent his anger at Frank's unbelievable stupidity. He didn't want to break the screen and get the damn thing replaced with an even crappier one. It was at that moment that the ground shook, and even Parker was caught off guard. He looked up at the windshield and saw high plumes of smoke coming from the downtown area of DC. His trained eye even caught the glimpses of what looked to be airplanes before they vanished into thin air, something he knew all to well.

"-don't know if you can here me, but its incredible!" came the shout from Cassandra Blair, which the camera feeds shifted to her report. "There is so much smoke that you can't see more than ten meters." Sirens went off in the background of the shot, and the feed was blurred by swirls of dust and smoke. "There's debris falling all over the-" Her sentence was completely caught off by another detonation closely behind her, and the camera cut off, switching back Frank's shocked expression. It did not last long however, for the screen went static, before showing the image of the inside some kind of temple, bathed in red light. Parker's shocked attention however, was focused on the figure standing in front of the screen."

 _"The destruction of the Philadelphia was no accident."_

"No way, Kane. . ." muttered Parker, still not believing that the very man who was smiling at him was still alive, was indeed on his very screen.

* * *

"Good Lord," General Granger whispered as the pirated feed was now shown on all monitors within the Pentagon, and soon all over GDI's MilNet and public broadcasting stations.

 _"It was a merciful bullet to the head of a malignant ideology."_

"No, Kane. . ." whispered Telfair.

* * *

"Holy shit," whispered Fallworth as he and his partner watched the very feed on their monitor.

 _"It was the death of fear and the birth of hope!"_

"Is that, Kane?"

"Yes, that really is him. . ."

* * *

 _"Rejoice, children of Nod!"_

"Oh dear God, it can't be. . ." muttered Sergeant Charlie Carr, as her entire company watched the feed from their main monitor.

 _"The blood of your oppressors will flow, and fifty years of tyranny will soon end!"_

"Arm up, let's go!" screamed her CO. "We got to protect the Pentagon!"

* * *

 _"Transformation is coming."_

"Ready, hermano?"

"Time to show those pendejos that you don't fuck around with the Brotherhood!"

Their bikes' engines humming in agreement, the two brothers put on their helmets and strapped them in.

"For the Brotherhood!" yelled one brother.

"Kane lives!" yelled the other.

Their armored motorbikes screamed past their empty abandoned warehouse as they tore off towards DC to meet up with the rest of their Brothers and Sisters in arms.

* * *

 _"A new day will dawn."_

Colonel Spaatz heard the words of Kane, and he eased up on his control stick as his bomber soared across the otherwise blue skies of DC. Their main target was effectively neutralized: the main GDI Admin building in the downtown area had been destroyed, but there were still many important targets to take care of. GDI bases, Tiberium silos and towers, other important junctions, they were all ripe for destruction.

Were this be a surgical strike mission, Ares Wing would've returned immediately back to their airbase as they were only carrying one JDAM bomb. Today however, was a special day: Ares Wing would herald the first wave of attacks against GDI. For that purpose, each Vertigo was instead armed with 3 high-explosive bombs, all other gadgets save for their cloaking device and spare fuel tanks were taken off to provide the Vertigo the extra weight capacity to carry these extra munitions without compromising their operational integrity.

Spaatz found a target: the Tiberium Processing Plant in Arlington was one of the main Tiberium mining and processing facilities for GDI's North American Eastern Blue Zone. Key word being _was,_ as he and three more of his compatriots unloaded their payload onto the facility. Explosions rang out into the facility, but one lucky bomb triggered a cataclysmic chain reaction with some of the liquid Tiberium tanks within the facility, encasing the entire facility in Tiberium-fueled fireball as the shockwave produced almost knocked the Vertigos out of the air. With the surrounding buildings collapsing from the wave or on fire, Spaatz admired his work before finding one more target to smite.

 _"Ares Five, taking fire! I'm hit, I'm hit!"_ came a call from the radio. He must've got caught by one of the AA turrets and shredded his right wing, which was now on fire. Though none of them would verbally respond, Spaatz knew there was nothing they could do for the poor pilot. So did the pilot, as the Vertigo decloaked his plane and began a kamikaze course towards the nearest skyscraper.

 _"Kane Lives!"_ screamed the young pilot before static briefly filled the comm channel. Even in death, the pilot managed to score a blow for the Brotherhood as he probably armed all his bombs before crashing as the skyscraper was engulfed in flames before it gave way and toppled over into the intersection below. Spaatz could faintly hear the screams of terrified GDI civilians as they lived their last moments or miraculously got out of the collapse zone.

They would honor his death later on. For now, they had one more infidel target assigned to hit: Andrews Air Base.

* * *

 _"The future. . .is ours."_

Commander Reis looked at his screen in silence, as the twisted smile of the insane madman vanished. His heart sank and his spine chilled as his Comcom buzzed furiously.

"Commander Reis, we need to get out of the air, now!" screamed Major Koening.

"You're right," Reis answered, finally pulling himself together. "Attention, 4th Battalion! We're re-routing to the nearest GDI base and from there we'll regroup to the Pentagon!"

"Which base is that?" asked a fellow rifle trooper named Jacobin.

"Parris Island Global Defense Marine Base," Reis answered. "Time to get more of Corsby's kind into the battlefield."

* * *

Commander Gregory Mael Radec was seeing, but still not believing. Even as their command buggy raced across the forested roads of eastern Maryland, the trio could not believe how many smoke pillars they've counted since their attack force had begun their advance. Within the last two hours, the downtown area of DC, along with Arlington, Rosslyn, Alexandria, Falls Church, Fairfax, Bethesda, Silver Spring, and Rockville had been attacked, with significant damage and causalities to GDI military, political, and civilian populations.

"We're actually hitting them hard, this is perfect!" screamed Ajay as he slammed on the accelerator pedal. "We're almost in the downtown area, Commander."

"Now we can finally have our vengeance, Commander," vowed Buchanan.

"Indeed, Buchanan. The rivers of blood will flow from every street," mused Radec. Even as they entered what remains of the DC Bethesda District, Radec was checking on all progress of the attack.

Even though the main thrust is into the DC downtown area, he was looking through the reports of all the assaults going on in Blue Zone 2. Admiral Dunebar and General Antezana had successfully captured the Hampton Roads naval base with one of their commandos taking out the GDS Pathe aircraft supercarrier. and General Antezana's troops are landing in the area to help support the push into the DC downtown area. Ares Wing is softening up Andrews Air Base to make way for his assault force before they meet up in what remains of Fairfax, DC. Fort Belvoir is under heavy assault and the GDMC Fort Quantico is under Brotherhood control as well, which would make it that much easier to capture DC.

Up north, Generals Broussard and Rosshire had already breached the northern walls and are securing Ottawa, having overwhelmed the GDI Uplands Air Base and advancing to destroy the Rockcliffe Air Base. Commander Humblestone has subdued Quebec City, one of the few Yellow Zone GDI-friendly cities in the former province of the Quebec and has marshaled his militant forces to support the downward strike. From the west, Commanders Tolfan and Jamali had already seized Indianapolis and heading east to capture Cincinnati, while Commander Rhinehound is besieging Detroit. And finally, in the east, Admiral Ye had cleared Boston harbor and is ransacking the rest of the city, while Admiral Tiongco have begun the assault on New York City, supported by Commander Hamilton's forces.

"Everything is going according to plan," Radec said in triumph.

"It is as Kane decrees it, Brother," Buchanan smiled devilishly.

"Oi, would you two just kiss already? You're going to make me sick," Ajay ruffled.

Regardless of their interactions, the trio could accept one fact: the Third Tiberian War had begun.

* * *

 **Level Two Clearance Granted...**

 **Accessing GDI Level II Archives...**

 _ **GDI WeaponsTech Engineering Archives-Excerpt of Report on Analysis and Usage on GDI Mechanized Walkers: Updated January 23, 2047**_

 ** _During the Global Liberation War against the Global Liberation Army, US-led UNGDI forces deployed the first generations of mechanized walkers, colloquially known as mecha. The X-0 Powersuit was the very first mechanized walker to be used in any war in world history, and it showed its potential capabilities. GLA militants found themselves unable to fire at the walking metal giants in spite of the suit's admittedly flimsy and weak armor due to the sheer awe and terror these metal suits possessed. Following the conclusion of the Global Liberation War and the collapse of many First World and Second World nations, GDI began developing new iterations of these walkers. . ._**

 ** _The Second Generation of walkers began their deployment in the mid-2020s, prior to the Second Tiberian War. The Wolverine Mk. 1, the direct successor to the X-0 Powersuit, was equipped for reconnaissance and anti-infantry support. Armed with dual GAU-19 Eliminator Gatling guns, the metal exosuit was capable of giving rifle platoons an edge in firepower and increasing each individual's combat lifespan. . ._**

 ** _Following the conclusion of the Second Tiberian War and the Firestorm Crisis, critical analysis of these mechanized walkers were sobering. GDI's walkers, especially the Titan Mk. I heavy assault walker, proved quite effective, especially in urban and broken terrain. Titans could move across the battlefields with little impediment, whereas wheeled or tracked vehicles might find themselves stopped by such obstacles. Their height increase also gives them an edge in battlefield awareness and excellent lines of fire, capable of firing past walls to attack important installations. Their bipedal mobility also gave walkers extra flanking options against the Brotherhood's "primitive" conventional armies. However, that same height advantage became a huge weakness as their higher profile meant the walkers drew heavy fire from Nod gunners. Even if the walkers weren't destroyed conventionally, the sheer amount of trauma on the walkers' armor can cause other systems to fail, thus mission-killing a lot of these mechanized beasts._**

 ** _Their biggest weakness however, were their legs. Nod rocket soldiers and desperate militants armed with handheld charges found the legs to be the most vulnerable target for these seemingly unstoppable machines of war. A well-placed explosion can damage and destabilize the leg joint, causing the walker to limp or even collapse due to the shift in weight displacement. . ._**

 ** _In spite of aggressive Tiberium harvesting efforts, GDI officials concluded that these 'mecha' were not optimal for combat usage and insist that GDI won in spite of, not because of, the mechanized beasts. However, many GDI military officials, including the late General Joshua Mitchell and retired Colonel Nick Seymour Parker, rejected these findings, insisting that these weaknesses can be improved or compensated._**

 ** _While officially disbanded, the GDI 'Steel Talons' division still operates a number of mechanized walkers, including the Titan Mk. II heavy assault walker and the Wolverine Mk. II reconnaissance and anti-infantry support walker. The Juggernaut Mk. II, codenamed Behemoth, became the basis of the improved and modern Juggernaut Mk. III artillery walker. Improved armor and lack of frontline missions allowed the Juggernaut to maintain its presence amongst GDI armed forces._**

 ** _Curiously but more worryingly still, InOps have reported mechanized walkers of Brotherhood design. While GDI is aware of the 'Purifier' mechanized walker used by the Black Hand under Marcion, InOps has reported findings of a new generation of walkers. One must wonder Nod's agenda, for it makes no sense for the cult to develop such walkers when they are aware of the technology's weaknesses. On the other hand, the Brotherhood of Nod has maintained a consistent disregard for safety and reliability concerns in favor of speed, mobility, and firepower, so perhaps the tables could be turned on them. . ._**

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Oi, that took forever to write.**

 **Hey guys, long time no see again. But in my defense, I do have work and now I have schoolwork on top of that, so there's that for ya.**

 **Also, with my new laptop, I have gone back to fix any errors and to add anything else that I deemed relevant to the previous chapters.**

 **Also to note, to avoid confusion in regards as to what I'm referring to as Washington DC, there are maps of the Washington DC metropolitian area. You can Google or Wiki them. Keeping up with the theme of DC encompassing more than just the capital district, this is what this story's current version of Washington DC will be like:**

 **The current area of DC is now referred to as the Downtown District. Not the Capital District, since the US no longer exists as an independent country anymore.**

 **the City of Alexandria used to be part of DC until the retrocession of 1846. It is now the Alexandria District and is a 'core' distri** **ct, meaning all its laws and regulations come down from the Downtown District.**

 **Arlington County, like Alexandria, used to be part of DC until the retrocession in 1846. Under GDI rule, it is called the Southern District. Locals call it the Arlington District, in reference to the Arlington Military Cemetery. Either name will be used interchangeably depending on who's speaking. It is also one of the 'core' districts for DC.**

 **Falls Church is an independent unincorporated city in northern Virginia next to Arlington County. It is now part of the Southern/Arlington District.**

 **Fairfax City and Fairfax County are now incorporated as the Fairfax District. Fairfax City is the district seat due to its geographical size being larger than the Downtown and Arlington Districts combined. Reston, Virginia is incorporated into Fairfax District. It is an 'outer' district, meaning its still part of DC proper, but is more semi-independent.**

 **The cities of Manassas and Manassas Park are now the Manssas District. It too is an Outer District, with Manassas being the district seat.**

 **Bethesda, Maryland is an unincorporated area northwest of DC. It is reorganized into the Bethesda District. It is also a 'core' District of DC.**

 **Silver Spring, Maryland, is an unincorporated area that is also land connected to the Downtown District. It is now the Silver Spring District and is an Outer District.**

 **Germantown, Gaithersburg, and Rockville, Maryland, are three census areas with the latter two being incorporated cities while Germantown is another unincorporated area. They stack on top of each other geographically if one looks at the map, but only Germantown will be incorporated as a separate district, while Gaithersburg and Rockville will be merged into Gaithers-Rockburg. Germantown District is an 'outer' District.**

 **Montgomery County hosts the previous three entries of the list. The county is reorganized into the Montgomery District, with Gaithers-Rockburg being the District seat. Like Fairfax and Germantown, Montgomery District is an 'outer' District.**

 **So there you have it, folks. And if you got confused by all the writing and tidbits along the way, the simplified version is:**

 **'Core' Districts: Downtown, Alexandria, Southern/Arlington, and Bethesda.**

 **'Outer' Districts: Fairfax, Manassas, Silver Spring, Montgomery, Germantown, and Montgomery.**

 **Washington really grew out of its mandate, huh? Blame the GDI fascists/socialists/communists.**

 **Alright, catch you guys later.**


	6. Chapter 5: Militant Force

_**Command and Conquer: Tiberium Saga: Third Tiberium War**_

* * *

 _"There is an old song which asserts that 'the best things in life are free.'_ _ **Not true**!"_

 _"Utterly false! This was the tragic fallacy which brought on the decadence and collapse of the democracies of the twentieth century; those noble experiments failed because the people had been led to believe that they could simply vote for whatever they wanted...and get it without toil, without sweat, without tears."_

 _"I fancy that that the poet who wrote that song meant to imply that the best things in life must be purchased other than with money-which is true-just as the literal meaning of his words is false. The best things in life are beyond money; their price is agony and sweat and devotion. . .and the price demanded for the most precious of all things in life is life itself. . ."_

 _"Ultimate cost for perfect value."_

 _Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers, 1959_

* * *

 ** _Act I_**

 _ **Chapter V: Militant Force  
**_

Machineguns and missiles roared across the streets, while lasers flashed past. As buggies and bikes zip through the debris-filled, but otherwise empty, streets, hordes of Brotherhood militants followed. The GDI Admin Building in Beaufort, South Carolina had been destroyed, its auxiliary offices ransacked for salvage material before being burned, and save for a few Zone Security Officers who dared impede the Brotherhood's progress, no military resistance was presented. The Black Hand Confessors who acted as the militant battalion's commanding officers instead allowed the bloodthirsty soldiers to have live shooting exercises on civilians, and they eagerly accepted the challenge.

With the city under nominal control, this horrifying conglomerate of men and steel had just one final objective: taking or destroying the GDMC Beaufort Air Station. Their marksmanship improved, the horde of men, women, buggies, and bikes stormed through the business district, blowing up every building they could without impeding their progress. Several Hammerheads along with some reactivated F/A-18 Hornets responded and proceeded to tear the battalion a new belly button, but were quickly dispatched by Nod-built F-22 Raptors and Su-47 Berkuts over five miles away. The fighters then disappeared as quickly as they appeared, the Disruption Towers around their secret airbase performing spectacularly in hiding these hit-and-run anti-air fighter jets.

Global Defense Marine Aircraft Group 31 were ill-prepared for this horrific development. Their air superiority effectively null and void, the terrifying horde made its way into the compound. Several bikes shot down a gaudy water-tower with the name "Fightertown" emblazoned on the impetuous structure. Buggies equipped with machine gun, laser, or rocket, stormed the runways and began dismantling the hangar bays. The massed infantry made short work on the ground-bound Marines, who did not time to put on their full body composites. Bodies of GDI Marines piled up as militia armed with RPG-45s began assisting the rocket-armed buggies in blowing the facility to smithereens.

The entire unit was not lost though, as militia squads began dragging survivors out of the ruins and what few intact facilities on the air base. They would be taken alive; pummeled and unconscious, but alive. They needed to be securely quartered before interrogation began; those who resisted would be ended, while those who proved cooperative may prove useful for more than just intel. . .

Or so they believed before AGMs flew into the epicenter of the horde, taking out much of the attack force. The remaining survivors who were not injured immediately returned fire...with nothing to fire at. Another wave of AGMs came streaking across the sky, blowing another portion of the attack force into oblivion. Not taking chances anymore, the commissars armed their multi-barreled assault rifles and began executing the prisoners while the rest of the horde took cover in whatever buildings were left within the base. It mattered little as a third wave of missiles, then a fourth, raced across the skies from different angles into the Brotherhood's positions. The missiles exploded with wrathful vengeance in response to the deaths of the final survivors of Aircraft Group 31.

F-22s and Su-47s rushed to the defense of the Brothers and Sisters, only to be obliterated by airborne anti-air missiles. The entire attack force now effectively disarmed, swarms of Hammerheads appeared from the southeast, 20mm Vulcan cannons blazing and AGMs streaking towards the rest of the group. The entire horde destroyed, a group of ORCAs dropped sensor pods approximately where the Nod jet fighters appeared, and while the stealth field emitted by the blooming flower-like structures remained intact the pods gave the Firehawks and Hammerheads enough information to where the Nod airbase was. A final wave of AGMs by the ORCAs, along with Hammerhead support, destroyed the Disruption Towers. Aircraft hangars, their shrines, even their underground war factories could not withstand the might of GDI firepower. With only the Communications Center and remaining Hands of Nod intact, albeit with multiple cannon holes, a swarm of V-35 Ox aircraft came swooping in, before landing their troops that traveled with the aircrafts' bellies.

One figure, a Battle Commander, walked out of the transport craft to survey the damage. The figure tapped on the Comcom on their right wrist and skimmed the multiple pages of data before closing them down, then surveyed the damaged base. The Brotherhood's Construction Yard still stood, but with multiple holes from cannons and missiles, its replication-construction capabilities were all shot out. There maybe a few more Brotherhood technicians and soldiers still waiting amongst its ruins, but nothing a few platoons of Marines could handle. Whatever intelligence or data the remaining structures might still have in their databanks was the main objective that was to be collected.

"Go, search and retrieve," the Battle Commander ordered. While platoons of rifle and grenade Marines double timed it towards the battered Nod facilities, the Commander's aide, a Senior Lieutenant, spoke up.

"And what do we do when we find whatever we need?" the aide asked.

"Then we give the intelligence to Commander Reis," the Commander answered.

"What about the Pentagon?"

"With the _Philadelphia_ gone, we're not going to be able to contact the Pentagon soon without alerting Nod forces. For all we know, they've probably already set up jammers to interfere with communications, weapon support, and satellite imagery. We also have no contact with the Southern Cross command center or the Reykjavík emergency command bunker either, so Commander Reis is our best chance at getting whatever information we're taking to be given to the Pentagon since his forces are heading there."

"Fair enough. And what about Nod's buildings?"

"Burn them to the ground. Destroy them, eliminate them. They've destroyed the air station and killed too many good men and women there. I want the Brotherhood to suffer as much as those men and women did."

The Commander's Comcom buzzed, and the Commander tapped on the device.

 **Incoming Transmission. . .**

The Comcom's screen expanded outward, creating a perfect holographic image of the speakers.

"Mam, we've gotten everything we could from the comms center. Ajax and Beltway Platoons retrieved a few bits of information from the northeastern Hand of Nod complex, Combine and Dart Platoons found some data as well in the Construction Yard's database. Platoons Ender, Firehouse, Gecko, and Hydrant reported destruction and corruption of the databanks in their sectors."

The Commander mused over the report, before nodding. "Good work, Lieutenant James. Have all units send their information to me, and I'll send it over to Commander Reis."

"Copy that, Commander," Lieutenant James answered before the transmission stopped and the blue version of the GDI eagle's sigil.

"That was fast," commented the Lieutenant. "She could be a Battle Commander one day."

"I doubt that, Lieutenant. She's a career soldier, she wants to fight on the battlefield. Where ever it may be or may take her, she'll run towards it at ramming speed."

"That doesn't seem wise," the Lieutenant stated with concern.

"Relax, she'll be alright." She took her hand and patted the Lieutenant's head, who reacted with a mix of scorn and contentment. "If you remember, I was like that during the Second Tiberian War."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're really my mother, or you're just some officer who pulled strings to get me this position."

"Now, now, I had no business in your promotion. You may be my son, but you were supposed to be assigned to another unit somewhere in Blue Zone 22."

"Right, what remains of Kenya and Tanzania. Didn't you fight there?"

"Indeed, I did. While McNeil was taking down Kane in Cairo, my forces stormed the Kenyan base. We distracted the troops long enough to prevent them from reinforcing Cairo, but my forces took heavy casualties."

"And then they said that Kane died there to cover up McNeil's operation."

"Good thing McNeil was not shy about shooting that cover-up out of the water. I certainly did not want to be the one taking credit for spearing Kane with a Tiberium-laced spike of all things."

 **Data Retrieval and Packaging Complete**

 **Stand by to execute Transfer**

"Transfer data to Commander Reis," she ordered her Comcom's EVA.

As her EVA began to send all the information to the Blue Zone Commander, the female Battle Commander began to wonder what would've happened to her family had she entered that Temple of Nod. Before she rushed in there personally, her troops warned how about the possibility of booby traps. She pondered over whether that would've sent her son on a different career path.

"Mam?" the aide waved his hand in front of her face. She snapped out of her inner trance and looked at her Comcom.

 **Data transfer complete**

"Good," she stated. "Patch me to Commander Reis."

"What about the charges?" her son reminded.

"Right." With a wave of her hand, several detonations went off as if on cue. The Marines were smart enough to get the hell out after stealing data and placing charges. As the Marines rallied back to her position, her Comcom beeped. She pressed a button and a holographic image of Commander Reis expanded out from her Comcom.

"Hello, Commander Reis," she greeted with a smile.

* * *

A few rockets hammered into the central air control tower while the rest of the attack wave dealt with incoming GDI reinforcements. Machineguns, lasers, and missiles destroyed as many Oxen aircraft as possible, but a few managed to sneak by. Not that it mattered, not even a few Predators with APC and infantry support could withstand the might of the devoted and righteous.

The 30-man RPG quickly reloaded their RPG-45s with professional precision before taking aim and firing again. Thirty rockets soared and hit the tower again, this time supplemented by a few cannon shells from a few Scorpions that were no longer needed to hold the line. The tower began to waver, but the RPG platoon reloaded again and fired once more.

The tower finally gave way, shifting to the right before it collapsed entirely. Men and women who attempted to escape the wreckage and debris found themselves within the crossfire of assault rifles and machine guns. Military or civilian, an infidel was still an infidel.

A rousing cheer from one of the Confessor commissars signaled the final assault on Andrews Air Base. Hordes of infantry, tanks, buggies, and bikes began pouring into the streets, laying waste to commercial buildings, apartment complexes, and any Tiberium silos until they've reached the base itself. The automated defenses of watchtowers and Guardian Cannons say impotent, their power complexes no longer standing thanks to Shadow Team infiltrators. The Brotherhood's salvage crews would be more than happy to take the fruit of the infidels, so the attack force left the structures alone for the most part. Firehawks and ORCAs sat idly on their runways, their pilots unable to get to them on time before their lives were ended short with bullets or rockets. The infantry destroyed the aircraft at their leisure, while the tanks and bikes focused on destroying the hangar bays and other important facilities and buildings. Buggies scoured the tarmac and runways, looking for straggling GDI personnel to turn into target practice.

For Confessor Alexa Coptica, this was just yet another example of Brotherhood supremacy. GDI always preferred open fields in order to practice their doctrine of armor superiority and overwhelming firepower. But in their own cities, they are slower than a _Chelonoidus Tiberius._ The Brotherhood has always preferred rapid deployment and sleek designs to zoom through tight rockways and corners, like the streets of DC. Armed with her sleek, but still bulky power armor and her AEK-33 multi-barreled assault rifle, she took aim at some limping infidels and finished them off quickly. As her militamen and women scoured the facility to make sure no more infidels were amongst them, she took note of the broken remains of an ORCA. She had a grudging respect for the yellowish craft; without the continued development from GDI, Nod would still have pursued conventional jet craft and helicopter technology. With VTOL craft, the possibilities were endless: the many weapons, gadgets, and technologies that the ORCA could be outfitted with they could now do the same with their own aircraft.

A squad of riflemen dragged out what looked to be a few men and women clad in garrison fatigues, not suitable for combat readiness. She sighed and simply took out her pistol before putting a bullet in the begging infidels' heads. Others were dragging out the remaining survivors; they too would be executed on the spot. One of the militiamen even emptied out an entire clip's worth of ammunition on one corpse before it clicked empty. He then threw the empty M16A3 at the corpse, pulverizing the infidel's skull before grabbing the GD2 and then, ahem. . .performing a certain squatting position near the pulpy remains of the corpse's head.

Ignoring the lack of professionalism from the militiants, she looked up to see a squad of 10 Venoms scour the remains of Andrews. If there are any remaining insects hiding amongst the ruins of the destroyed facility, she and her fellows would be notified and her soldiers would finish them off. The one disadvantage to being a Confessor is that she couldn't be the first one to engage the infidels. She was too valuable to be sent headlong into engagements with the enemy, even if she demanded that she be the first to shoot down the nonbelievers. To her, the foot soldiers in spite of their ragtag uniforms, were exceptionally lucky to be the first ones into battle. Each one was unique in some way, and more importantly, they get first dibs on spilling the enemy's blood.

The Venoms' pilots gave the 'ALL CLEAR' and she mustered the militia company to follow her to the next base. The Anacosta-Boiling Air Base was much smaller, but it still posed a threat to Brotherhood air superiority in DC. Taking it out would further aggravate GDI's air assets in the area as well as give the forces approaching from the north a staging area.

"Forwards! For the Brotherhood, for Unity, for Peace!" she shouted.

"Peace through Power!" the militants shouted in unison before the militants and their accompanying vehicles rushed forward towards their next objective.

She really envied these men and women. So pure in their desire for a better life, for vengeance, for ascension into the afterlife. Its a shame that they are just nothing more than cannon fodder, mere pawns to be replaced.

* * *

Corporal Amin found his new squad in the temp-fusion of C & D Companies to be...interesting. Though they are all fighting for the same side, tensions between him and his fellows were all due account to past heritage enmities. Amin is of Baloch descent from his father's side, but his mother was a fifth generation Afro-American. That put tensions between him and a fellow Aryan Brotherhood ex-con turned GDA rifleman. Two of his squadmates were former Grey Wolves paramilitary, which in turn were despised by their Kurdish squadmates. Having fought in the Peshmerga alongside US-led GDI forces during the Global Liberation War, they were no strangers to the Grey Wolves' intentions to wipe out the Kurds in Turkey and Iraq whether under the banner of GDI or the GLA. The only other white person in the 8-man squad was their CO, a lady in her early 30s who would take no shit from any of them. Tensions would return if she left them for one nanosecond so Amin preferred to be next to her, or at least away from the shitshow.

Since he was the 'well-behaved one,' she had allowed him to visit his friend who was currently recovering in Naval Hospital Beaufort. Quinn was in bad shape in spite of the medics' efforts in South Carolina, but they had reassured him over and over that she was going to be fine and back to fighting condition within a day or two. Still, he was going to use those few hours of respite to make sure she was alright.

After being recorded and verified into the database, was allowed into the hospital. Unlike civilians, Amin was allowed to go straight to Quinn's room without escort from hospital staff, security or otherwise. That's not to say he was allowed to anything and everything he wished; Amin realized that there were hidden cameras and sentry gun turrets within the hospital should anyone become hostile. When dealing with the Brotherhood, or a crazed patient, there's no such thing as too much force.

After getting off the elevator, he passed a few more doors before finding her room. He did not go in there, not for her safety as she was perfectly sanitized and well-defended with several sentry bots guarding her. Not to mention when he entered he would automatically be decontaminated by the various medical bots and the pedal shower that would activate the moment his entire body is through the door. No, as far as he was concerned, she is probably mostly nude as doctors and nurses needed to get rid of most of her uniform and armor to treat her various injuries. Respecting her privacy, especially when she is no position to give consent, was important to him. Even so, he peered at the window to ensure she was still there.

Sure enough, she was, covered in a medical blanket to keep her body warm. Amin only sighed with relief as he could faintly tell that she was breathing. Even though he was not trained as a combat medic, Amin could tell the minute details in most scenarios. As he sat down on the floor, back leaning on the door, he questioned if the Brotherhood ever cared for the people they send to fight them. Brotherhood doctrine has always been less concerned with the people who fight for them and more about whether they can still fight. His father told of Brotherhood militia soldiers who were blown up in half, yet they still managed to crawl back to their weapons and fight on as if nothing happened. His dad was adamant when he said that these were not remnants of CABAL's cyborgs, these were flesh and blood humans who happened to stick a damn needle in themselves. From what he learned later in his training, it happened to be a toxic mix of adrenaline, amphetamines, and of course, liquid Tiberium.

After a few minutes of psyching himself out with horrifying images of Brotherhood soldiers being blown to bits and coming back from the dead, he got off the floor and walked back to the elevator. From there he would leave the hospital and head back to the Parris Island Recruit Depot. From there, it was only a matter of time before they figured out where they needed to be next.

* * *

Sergeant Charlie Carr held her GD2-C close as she scanned for any Brotherhood activity. Since the destruction of the _Philadelphia,_ all hell broke loose. Half of DC's Arlington District was either bombed or on fire, Alexandria District now belongs to those scorpion-tatooed freaks, and Bethseda District is completely flattened into rubble, save for a few buildings flying the Brotherhood's flag.

Holed up in a hotel room on the second floor of a 10-story complex, she and her squad were assigned 'first responder' duty: anyone wearing black and red were to be shot, until the rest of the group can fire on them as well.

Privates Holloway and De Beers secured and watched the front doorway, in case Nod infiltrators decided to rush their position, while herself and the three remaining riflemen took positions from whatever windows would give them the best view to spot Nod movement. A four-man missile squad squatted in the next room to the left of them to handle any tanks and armored vehicles Nod might be throwing at them, while a 4-man sniper team holed themselves in a room in a floor above them. Carr and her team maybe first responders, but the marksmen were the lookouts.

Gunfire and rocket launches could be heard all over the bombed out neighborhood, as Carr and her squad stayed focused. If the Brotherhood started firing, they would fire back.

"Contact!" screamed one of the riflemen from the first bedroom. His GD2-C roared in fury as the weapon fired, and another rifleman assisted with his gunfire. Their rifles clicked empty and they got back inside, their job done. As they took out another clip and began to reload, an explosion clocked the room to the right of them.

"The hell was that!?" screamed her squadmate.

"Artillery shell!" Carr called out. "We got to get out of here, the position could be compromised!"

"Negative, Responder Leader," one of the marksmen called out on the comm channel.

"What do you mean 'Negative,' Overwatch 2?"

"It was a stray shell, there hasn't been any Shadow commandos in the area thus far. Our scanners aren't detecting anything."

"Your scanners aren't worth shit if they can't detect a bunch of invisible people doing prerecorded dance moves!" Carr screamed back.

Your concerns are understandable, but we aren't under attack," answered Overwatch 2. "Stay in position."

Carr slammed the rifle butt onto a table in frustration, then went back to position herself near the balcony. She and Corporal Helmsfeed were next on duty, so the other two Privates could recover from shock of having fired their weapon for the first time since boot camp.

"Underwire 1, how's the situation below?" Carr called out the rifle teams on the first floor. Nothing but static answered the Sargent.

"Underwire 1, do you copy?" No response.

"Overwatch 2, Underwire 1 is not responding," Carr reported. "Permission to have my squad check out the bottom floor."

"Ugh, alright Responder Leader," Overwatch 2 relented. "Take your squad and another rifle team with you and go check out the lobby on the first floor. I doubt there's anything wrong, but if Underwire's not responding then its best to figure out what's going on."

"K, guys, let's move," Carr ordered, and her squadmates eagerly kicked open the door and ran out of the room. As she and her squad knocked on the door of the room nearest to the stairs, she heard some hint of a struggle in the room. Two of her squadmates switched their rifles to semi-auto and fired a couple shots in order to get to the handle and open the door from the other side.

A burst of gunfire erupted from the bathroom as a riflewoman clad in GDI armor rushed to hit Carr. The riflewoman fell back with a pool of blood forming from her corpse. Two more riflemen in GDI armor rushed from the balcony to hit Carr's squad, only to be gunned down by the 6-man rifle squad.

"Any more traitors, or are you guys just Nod militiamen hiding in our armor?" Carr called out.

"MMMMEEEMMHHPPPH!" was the response. As the squad headed to investigate the noise, Carr removed the helmet of the fallen rifleman.

"Oh shit," Carr gasped.

"What's going-oh shit," Private Holloway gasped the same.

"We found one of the squad's survivors," reported Specialist Gribs. He removed the cloth from the liberated comrade's mouth and the escapee took in several inhalations of air before speaking.

"They're not traitors, or Nod sleepers!" the trooper gasped. "They're. . .they're-"

"Shiners," Holloway finished for the trooper. "Damn mutants."

"The Forgotten," Carr murmured softly. For whatever reason, some of the Tiberium-mutated population had just impersonated GDI soldiers. It didn't take long for the implications to take hold of Carr's mind.

"Get your armor back on, soldier!" Carr barked, startling the trooper. "We need to go downstairs and figure out what happened to the others downstairs!"

"Mam, you don't think-"

"I don't know, Private Holloway," Carr answered. "But if they're here and fighting us, they just fucked with the wrong people."

* * *

For some Brotherhood soldiers who once fought for GDI, the irony was not lost to them. The GDI Information and Convention Center in DC's Bethesda District was once a supply base and staging area for Nod's constant assaults against GDI cities such as New York, DC, Boston, and Pittsburgh during the Second Tiberian War. Once the Brotherhood was defeated, the captured base was decommissioned. As luck would have it, the majority of the materials used to make the facility as well as the equipment used to run the center were all salvaged from the Nod supply camp. And now, it only seemed fitting that the Information Center served the Brotherhood.

Radec and Buchanan couldn't be more pleased with this development. Not only was the facility a great propaganda center, but several buildings connected to the center served as a front-line command center, communications center, and barracks rooms respectively. As they walked to the command room with Ajay in tow, Radec noticed the hundreds of militiamen and women making use of the newly acquired amenities. For the first time in what seemed years or even decades (and for some of the younger soldiers, their first time ever), cold and hot water was available, as well as actual foodstuffs, real or processed. That's not to say the Brotherhood does not feed its people. After all, one of the reasons they even gained influence in the many run-down towns and cities of the Yellow Zones was the promise of food and shelter. And for the most part, those expectations were met. Still, it would be hard-pressed to get a nice ten ounce sirloin from the food lines or even the underground grocery stores. For those tired of eating soy patty burgers with kale, this would probably the only time they could thank their infidel oppressors for such wonderful gifts without the fear of an incoming bullet to the skull.

One militiaman, Fowlers was the name Radec read on his nametag patch, was exchanging his worn-out socks for a new, clean, solid white pair of socks. Another was talking to a younger one about how he survived an encounter with a GDI patrol buggy while both of them were eating what looked like hamburgers. A couple of women were taking a hot shower together; thankfully the curtains were closed, but even the Commander could not escape the lewd thoughts that entered his mind upon his observation. Ajay on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying his voyeuristic adventure before being deterred by an incoming bar of soap.

Buchanan looked to the other scenes: a Black Hand Confessor holding a quick service for the Brotherhood men and women who lost their relatives in combat this far, several Black Hands with their helmets off silently kneeling in prayer to Kane, and what looked like an elderly fellow passing out MREs to the troops who were about to leave their temporary home to face off against the infidels once more.

"Commander, we have your uniform ready to go," one of the command center's Lieutenants reported. A loud boom from an errant artillery shell momentarily gave everyone in the room pause.

"Excellent, I will be there momentarily," Radec answered as he walked to the private room established for him.

"You never told me you had your own uniform," Ajay responded to the comment, intrigued.

"Just wait and see, Brother Ajay," Buchanan smiled as she answered him.

"Right then," Ajay responded, as the three entered the command room. "Andrews is already down, as well as the Anacostia-Bolling Command and Support Base. General Antezana's forces have begun moving his forces out of the Hampton Roads shipyard and has begun his assault on Langley Air Base. Meanwhile, we have Commanders Godardt and McClurkin reporting that they've successfully captured the Global Defense Navy's TRACEN in Yorktown, Virginina and the Yorktown Naval Weapons Station respectively."

"I thought there were more GDI installations in that area," Buchanan pondered out loud as she looked at the wall-sized monitors that detailed all of Nod's major operations in the Maryland-Virginia region.

"GDI got really penny-pinchy, remember?" Ajay winked. "Lots of their facilities got closed down or were consolidated into huge 'mega-bases.' GDI's Marine Base Little Creek-Story absorbed the Oceana Naval Air Station that used to be run by the GDN. Then you have the Fleet Training Center in the Dam Neck, which, surprise surprise, is part of Hampton Roads Naval Base." Ajay took pleasure in seeing Buchanan's reaction to his sudden knowledge. "And I wonder who owns that piece of real estate now?"

"I believe that we should be more concentrated on more important matters, Brother Ajay," said a raspy, almost echo-like voice. The couple turned around to see a new figure approach them.

"Ah, nice to see you again, 'Colonel' Radec," Buchanan greeted with a bow.

The uniformed figure looked more ready for battle than for commanding troops into battle, yet Commander Radec stood before the awestruck eyes of his comrades, as well as those around the room. Clad in a crisp uniform, but underneath were heavy plastic and ceramic plates from his upper torso to his lower legs. Shin guards and heavy composite combat boots protected his feet, and a thin layer of ceramic and metal plates protected his neck. Upon his right breast plate, left shoulder pauldron, and both knee guards held the scorpion's tail, the very symbol of the Brotherhood.

But what really struck everyone was his head gear. His mouth covered by a metal-reinforced re-breather apparatus, the tubes safely tucked within the armor. The commander's helmet looked like if a WWII German General's cap and a WWII Soviet Commissar's hat were meshed together with a coalscuttle helmet. But underneath the heavily-armored helmet were the bright red goggles over the commander's eyes, giving the appearance of an eternally righteous and vengeful figure ready to settle the score with their enemies.

"Holy Jezuz, Commander," Ajay whistled, impressed with the Commander's new getup, "I want to know how I can get one of those."

"My very uniform is unfortunately, very unique," Radec retorted. "During my years as the 'Legendary insurgent,' I have collected various uniforms, helmets, caps, body armors, and visors. Before I was summoned to Temple Prime, I had asked Colonel Cobar if he was able to create a battle armor suitable for me. Seeing his own armor as a perfect template, he then created the additional pieces using Tiberium-derived composites and metals based on the collection I showed him."

"Judging by his craftsmanship and you reactions," he noted, "I suppose this would be his best work yet."

"Colonel Cobar is still alive, Commander?" Buchanan asked. "I thought he's-"

"Yes, I too believed he perished in Jericho in 2039, Sister Buchanan," Radec answered. "He was severely wounded and almost 'clinically dead.' However, the Brotherhood's advancements in cybernetics and Tiberium-derived medications have given him a full recovery, perhaps even better than he was before. He is the one who made your custom Black Hand armor, I believe."

"Ah, guess Captain Goldrich was retired then," Ajay mused. "Although he did mess up more than a few times, there was that fiasco with the-"

"Indeed. Captain Goldrich was given a 'proper sendoff,' for his years of service," Radec finished.

"Right then," Ajay interjected to keep the mood up. "Looks like our next target's the White House. It isn't really a tactical objective, they don't really run central command from there or anything anymore."

"But it is an important monument, so if we sack it, it would cause further disarray in GDI's morale in the region." Ajay paused, apparently reminiscing, before blurting out, "man, I would give my left nut to see some real action and take this target myself."

After a few moments of awkward silence Radec asked, "Would you like to participate in the upcoming raid, Ajay?'

"Man, would I love to, Commander Radec," Ajay excitedly answered. "But unfortunately, I'm a Field Intel Agent, not supposed to be in combat anymore."

Just as soon as he stopped, Ajay had an idea. "Buuuut, if you can take a picture of the White House after you cover it with our banners, I'm willing to call it square."

"It will be done, Brother Ajay," Radec answered.

* * *

"Obrigado, Senhora Grunwaldt," Reis finished with a nod.

"That's Comandante Grunwaldt, to you," Grunwaldt reprimanded teasingly. "I just hope that any of that data in that package will be enough to follow up on, too many good men and women are dying in the Carolina region of Blue Zone 2."

"Sim, senhora," Reis answered with a grimace. "Senhor Granger was saying the Pentagon was under attack, but the transmission was cut off before he could finish. I tried landline calls, but all the phones are busy it seems."

"The Pentagon's pretty strong by itself, Commander," Commander Grunwaldt assured him. "Nod's going to have to capture or destroy many of our bases and forces there before they can even consider trying to take it intact."

"I hope so," Reis answered worryingly.

"Comandante Paulo de Reis, you have my word that the Pentagon will be alright."

"Very well, Senhora Grunwaldt, we shall be on our way," Reis answered, confidence now restored. "We will need some more help, however. Are there any units in the area that do not require your command?"

"Get to Camp Lejeune, Commander," Grunwaldt suggested. "If the Brotherhood's not attacking there, maybe some of their formations are free to help you take back DC."

"Thank you again, Commander Grunwaldt," Reis thanked again.

"If we survive this, I'll have to brush up on my Português again," Grunwaldt mused in a suggestive tone.

"That would not be necessary, senhora. I can grunt in English all the same."

* * *

As Buchanan and Radec prepared to enter their command buggy, Ajay appeared from the corner, holding out an assault rifle.

"Here, Commander. Gonna need it more than I do," Ajay said before giving it to the armored Commander and gave a pat on the back. "If you're heading to the frontlines, you'll need something to tear shit up!"

Taking the AEK-33, Commander Radec inspected the rifle for a few seconds before putting the sling over his shoulder. "I believe you have some ammunition for me?"

"Already stashed in the buggy, my friend," Ajay said, smiling a devilish smile. And while he could not see Radec's face, he could guess that the Legendary Insurgent was ready to go into combat once again.

"Very good, Agent Ajay," Radec replied. "I promised that your request will be fulfilled, so I will do as you wish."

"Excellent, man." Ajay looked to his left before looking back at the Commander and asked, "mind if you take a few pictures inside the White House, too? After you do a little redecorating of course."

Radec simply nodded. "It will be done, Ajay."

The driver of the vehicle, clad in a similar armor used by GDI troops, only black-gray and the helmet's visor a blood red, opened the door for the pair. Buchanan, then Radec entered the buggy. Once the couple have been properly secured, the driver closed the door, opened his driver's door, and entered the ATV. The door closed and sealed, the driver entered his passcode, the buggy activated and began to rev up.

Radec stared again at the AEK-33, taking note of its construction. Despite its multiple barrels, the weapon seemed light in his hands. Whether it was because it was of his powered armor or because the weapon was constructed with the best materials, the AKM lookalike definitely saw its fair share of battle judging by the scratches on the wooden heatguard, along with the wear and tear on the receiver.

As the buggy continued its course through the Downtown District, Radec ignored the copious sounds of gunfire, rockets flying, and exploding artillery shells and focused on his last stint of combat. It was only 2 years ago, and yet he remembered it as if it was yesterday...

A stray artillery shell exploded right in front of the buggy, sending the vehicle spinning out of control before crashing into a nearby wall of blown-up street and wall debris.

* * *

Lieutenant General Radcluf looked upon the ruins of the UN Headquarters Complex from his Sky Sentry sattelite feed. Well aware that Nod hackers may be seeing these images as well, he turned to his left to see a holographic map provided by one of the base's EVA units. All across Blue Zone 2, all GDI military installations and major cities were under attack, as indicated by the flashing hotspots and estimated Nod movements.

 _This is actually happening,_ Radcluf thought grimly as his subordinates continued to coordinate the last of New York City's Army and Zone Security positions. Fort Hamilton is one of the oldest military installations of the former United States, and GDI's civilian leadership was wise to leave it alone in spite of year after year of military budget cutbacks. Still, that wasn't much comfort as images of Nod militamen continued to fire upon GDI positions or at civilians be it their homes, businesses, or bodies. The gruesome image of a Nod Confessor unleashing a full clip upon a group of captured civilians begging for mercy was nothing any man or woman could watch without cringing in anger. Another group of militamen decided to use the Chrysler Building as target practice with their RPG-45s. While their launchers would cause minor damage by themselves, it was hard to watch as those psychopathic degenerates took pleasure in blowing up civilians looking through the building's many windows.

What truly disturbed him the most however was the Brotherhood takeover of the Empire State Building. That building is 1,250 feet tall, with 102 floors, and yet the Brotherhood managed to secure and garrison an entire infantry division inside the building, which EVA reported at least 20,000 militants occupying the building and the surrounding area. The various EVAs would report of Nod ORCA Carryalls dropping off various supplies from anti-air flak cannons and SAM platforms to M2 BMG and TOW launcher emplacements. As far as he was concerned, the Empire State Building is the Brotherhood's command center in the NYC: an impenterable fortress for conventional ground assaults. And with all air assets focused on the defensive, there was no way to call down Firehawk or ORCA Bomber strikes.

"Sir! Reports of more shelling coming from Sector Two-Nine-Seven!" shouted one of his aides.

"Tell them to abandon the checkpoint," the General finally spoke.

"Sir?" the nonplussed aide asked.

"Tell them to abandon the checkpoint and have them reinforce the area around Fort Bradley and the Brookly Naval Yards," the General ordered. "Hampton Roads has not been liberated from the Brotherhood bastards, and if they decide to capture the Brooklyn Docks and the Naval Refueling Station nearby, then all the Fleets in the Western Atlantic won't be able to resupply or rearm."

"Yes sir!" answered the aide as he relayed the orders to another aide that was handling communications. More aides began shouting orders at the different checkpoints around New York City, but there wasn't much time before the Brotherhood turns its sights on the remaining GDI bases in the NYC. Most of those checkpoints were hastily erected, and with only Forts Hamilton and Bradley with functional Construction Yards any replicated defenses and support structures would not come soon enough before the checkpoints and outposts are overrun.

"Any comm transmissions from DC?" the General asked non-specifically.

"No sir," answered another communications aide. "The Brotherhood's completely jammed all communications for the entire city. The landlines are still operational, but they're all backed up with calls. Likely asking for the same thing: more reinforcements."

"So Hamilton and Bradley are all that stand in Nod's way," the General sighed. He waved his hand and a couple GDI riflemen understood his signal as they ran out of the command room.

"What the heck was that, General?" asked yet another aide.

"I'm going out there," the General answered.

"But sir! You haven't been in combat in-"

"I'm well aware of the circumstances, Captain," the General answered nonchalantly. "But who said I was going in there with only a GD2?"

* * *

 _Another GDI outpost turned to dust,_ thought Sergeant Bundy as another GDI Barracks complex laid in literal ashes. The Black Hand and the accompanying Flame Tanks had done their duty in setting most of Alexandria on fire and had moved on to finish off any GDI installments. As the purplish flames began to die off with nothing else to burn in the immediate vicinity, he motioned the rest of his 10-man squad to move up.

Like his compatriots, Bundy had long seen GDI as the last straw that broke the back of America. When the Brotherhood came to occupy the Yellow Zones, he and several U.S. based militias fought for said control against the intrusive cult. In the end however, the Brotherhood offered them a deal they would be stupid to pass up: control of a new and reborn United States of America, with them as the rulers of said nation. It was then that most, if not all, the militias swore loyalty, however nominal, to the Brotherhood.

Armed with his trusty semi-auto AK-103, he and his compatriots moved across the burning ruins of Alexandria, looking for GDI soldiers to kill, as well as any stray civilians. They too are part of the conspiracy since they willing gave up their right to be US citizens in exchange for protection by this liberal-fascist communist government. As opposed to moving on with their lives with their bootstraps on, with honor, with dignity, with freedom!

Bundy and his compatriots spotted a group of fleeing civilians. He did not know why the Black Hand spearheading this operation allowed to them to live, but he and his militia were going to correct that mistake.

"Fire!" he called out, and multiple gunshots rang out, hitting 3 of the civies. The 10-man group rushed to the injured, checking to see if they were dead.

"Noooo, why," cried out a civie, before coughing up blood. Bundy answered with a rifle butt to the civilian's face before he shot him in the stomach. Even he knew the bastard will die either from blood loss or the rupture of his stomach's contents. The others began wailing on the remaining injured until they too laid bloodied and limp.

As they celebrated their minor victory, the militia saw another group of people running across East Nelson Avenue into what looks like an abandoned shop. No need to say anything, Bundy and his men ran towards the building, eager to get in some more target practice. After busting the glass on the door with various pieces of concrete and debris, the militia stormed in, rifles armed and aimed at anything that wasn't them.

There was a muffled scream, and Bundy kicked the next door open. He and the other nine searched the supply room for the sound, then moved on to the next room. Finding nothing, Bundy and his men shot through the door to the final room. _They would have to be here somewhere,_ Bundy thought as his men pushed off any and all materials off shelves, stools, and racks, hoping the ransacking would flush their would-be victims out.

"Found some, Mister Bundy!" called one of the militia out. The militiaman dragged one of the bystanders out from under a table, her screams echoing through the abandoned store. The others similarly were dragging out more civilians out of their hiding places.

"Ah, more traitorous civilians," Bundy cooed. He walked over to the struggling civilian and smashed his rifle butt on to her school. Her screams of terror turned to cries of pain, as another militiaman tied a dirty piece of cloth around her mouth.

"Kill the others," he ordered. Shots rang out as blood spattered and flesh made an audible squishing noise as lead met flesh and bone.

"Well, so sorry to mess up your pretty face, _but,"_ he said as he began undoing his pants. _"Like I said, you ain't American. So all your 'civil rights' are forefit."_

The woman's eyes bulged in terror and she began to struggle even harder, but with three men holding her down and a fourth keeping the cloth tugged around her mouth she began to cry as the inevitable was about to happen. . .

Four gunshots were heard, and the room filled with silence after that. The men holding her down went limp, and the man holding her mouth shut fell backwards.

"What the-?!" Bundy could barely utter before two more gunshots penetrated his right shoulder and left collarbone. The armed figure lowered its handgun and began walking towards the would-be victim and the injured Bundy.

"You know, I knew you 'militia' types weren't true American patriots as you claimed to be, but this," the figure kicked Bundy so hard in the stomach that the would-be future leader of the united States was curled up in fetal position, the pain being unbearable for him. _"This. . . this is just downright despicable."_ Kicking him again, the skull this time, Bundy screamed in pain.

As Bundy cried out, the figure offered the would-be victim its gloved hand. Although the figure had its head covered in a cloak, the woman hesitantly took its hand and the figure pulled her up.

"Fucking 'Patriots,' fucking 'Militiamen,' fuck all you simpletons!" the figure roared at the reeling Bundy. "You think that the Brotherhood would ever just hand you the keys to a 'reborn and pure America?' Hah! You're all just a bunch of assholes that God didn't want Lucifier to deal with."

"And now. . ." the figure lowered his gun towards Bundy's skull, intent already in place. Bundy began to sob loudly, fearing his death. No longer was he concerned about being the next President of the United States, he just wanted to live.

"Please! I'm sorry, I won't do it again! Just let me...just let me. . ."

The figure pulled the trigger and a bullet went through Bundy's spine. Bundy screamed in agony, as pain so indescribable coursed through his body.

"By the way," the figure said calmly, ignoring Bundy's pained hollering, and pulled out a bloodied knife. "Your friends were just as easy to kill. Could've killed you bozos with it too, but you would-be rapists can't be dealt with just cold hard steel. It would sully the blade with your general ass-ness."

"Enjoy bleeding to death, fucking asshole," the figure finished as he held the woman's hand and both exited the room.

 _No, this cannot be. . ._ Bundy's thoughts could no longer finish, as the patriot blacked out from blood loss. It would only be a matter of time before it would be the last time those eyes were closed.

* * *

"Thank you, uh. . ."

"There's no time for thanks, I need to get you safe," the figure answered. They crossed onto Dewitt Avenue and hurried along southbound until they came across a partially-bombed out warehouse.

"But the Brotherhood, they'll-"

"They won't be coming back for them," the figure interrupted the woman. "They joined the Brotherhood because they were given false beliefs of power and grandeur, not to mention their right to continue existing. Kane would never allow them to have power on any level, these so-called 'militias' are nothing more than crybabies desperate at gasping straws in some attempt to paint themselves as 'freedom fighters.' Makes me sick."

"Wait, so you're part of Nod?" the woman asked fearfully, attempting to break free of her 'rescuer,' but the figure only tightened its grip on her. They entered the building and walked across the floor. The figure kicked an unopened crate over to the side, and opened a false panel.

"I _was_ ," the figure answered her. "Now, get in."

* * *

 _Alert-Low Priority_

 _Passive Sensor Detection: Large ionized particle spike detected around third planetary body of Sol System._

 _Analysis: High concentration of ionized particles originated from orbital platform. Probability of weaponized particles is 99.9987% accurate._

 _Conclusion: Insufficient cause to awaken from hypersleep. Liquid Ichor detonation on the seventh largest planetary surface was closest to have reasonable cause to begin Ichor harvesting operations, but the spread was confined only to that surface._

 _Status on indigenous lifeforms: continued warfare from two major factions has left the planet in a state of instability. Once crisis reaches climatic point, the indigenous lifeforms will be too weakened to continue fighting._

 _Actions: Returning to hypersleep. Once sufficient Ichor buildup or Ichor detonations are detected, Ichor harvesting and Cleanup operations will begin._

* * *

 **Level I Security Clearance** **Granted**

 **Accessing Brotherhood Archives. . .**

 **Scrubbing Sensitive and Classified Data. . .**

 **Intelligence Data Found**

 _ **Brotherhood of Nod Weapons Archives: AEK-33 Nod Combat Assault Rifle**_

 _ **Weight (unloaded): 4.6 kilograms (10.14 pounds), Classical; 4.37 kilograms (9.63 pounds), Standard**_

 _ **Length or Height: 962 mm (37.87 in.), with stock in Classical and Standard; 770 mm. (30.32 in.), with stock folded in Standard**_

 _ **Barrel Length: 16.5 inches (419.1 mm.) each**_

 _ **Cartridge: *classified, security clearance level insufficient***_

 _ **Rate of Fire: *classified, security clearance level insufficient***_

 _ **Muzzle Velocity: *classified, security clearance level insufficient***_

 _ **Effective Range: variable depending on variants, *classified, security level insufficient***_

 _ **Action: long-stroke, gas-operated rotating bolt with balanced recoil system (BARS)**_

 _ **Feeding Mechanism: 30-round magazine, 45-round magazine, and 60-round casket magazine**_

 _ **Following the Black Hand's betrayal led by Brother Marcion, the Black Hand saw immediate need to replace their arsenal of light machine guns and GPMGs with a capable weapon firing with the same rate of fire without additional weight and bulk that LMGs and GPMGs provide. While GDI was focused on reclaiming Southern Germany and Northern Switzerland under Project New Eden, Nod affiliates in Russia under Brother Marcion's leadership smuggled multiple weapons into the Black Hand's armories, especially assault rifles. Brother Marcion in particular found the AEK-971 to be an especially effective weapon. However he too liked the destructive power of the AKM rifle, developed by the Soviet Union after its defeat by the Allied Powers in the Second Great World War.**_

 ** _With the Black Hand focused on creating weapons that only the elite could handle, Black Hand weapons engineers set about creating the best of both worlds with an added twist. The AEK Model 2033, or AEK-33, is an unorthodox assault rifle that nevertheless proved its destructive effectiveness. The AEK-33 was indeed modeled after the AKM assault rifle, but all its mechanisms followed the pattern of the AEK-971._**

 ** _The AEK-33 is unusual in that it is multi-barreled, not unlike Gatling-styled firearms like the M134 Minigun. However it is not a machine gun, as select fire mechanisms allow the user to switch between full automatic fire, a 2-cycle burst fire (or 6-round burst), and semi-automatic fire for more precise shots._**

 ** _*classified, security clearance level insufficient*_**

 ** _The heavy weight of this rifle combined with Nod's militia forces lacking the training and discipline to handle such a powerful weapon meant that only the AEK-33 were to be distributed almost exclusively to the Black Hand, particularly its Confessor personnel although Black Hand combat troopers will arm themselves with the weapon as a last resort should their flamethrowers and their *classified, security clearance level insufficient* run out of ammunition._**

 ** _However, distribution towards regular Brotherhood troopers has begun as Kane requires his most loyal and elite troops to be well-equipped with the latest armaments. Nod Raider teams were regularly issued the AEK-33 as self-defense weapons if their buggies or bikes were mission-killed and had to fight alongside militia troopers._**

 ** _More recently, the Brotherhood's *classified, security clearance level insufficient*_**

 ** _Remainder of article has been redacted due to insufficient clearance level. Report to your platoon leader or your regular Confessor for temporary access to higher security clearance._**

* * *

 **A/N: Hello again, readers. Finally got another chapter out. Riiiiight...**

 **This one took a much longer time in thought process because there was so much I wanted to cram in, but for plot reasons, many had to be taken out. As a result, this chapter may seem disjointed at times and plotlines may seem to come out of nowhere and such. This is not my best work and as soon as I have another regular day off, I'm going to revisit this chapter and edit some more or just scrap it and do a complete rewrite.**

 **Although I'm proud to have taken a few jabs at some figures and events that I found irksome. Some may be obvious, some may go over your heads (not that there's nothing wrong with that, I don't expect everyone to crack open a history book and find exact references to stuff I'm writing in a fanfic).**

 **Also, the Brotherhood Intelligence Files. Yes there is a reason why so much of the article has been scrubbed. And yes, I do have the complete uncensored Intelligence File in my USB drive. No, I will not be releasing it uncensored...for a while.**

 **That being said, take care everyone.**

 **A/N 2: So I did say I would edit this chapter some more. I added some more GDI perspectives, one from Zone Security Sergeant Carr, and another; this time in New York City. I was perplexed in-game that the Brotherhood was willing to risk everything to take DC, yet completely ignore very important cities and facilities. New York City for example, remains the world's financial capital and for good reason. If the Brotherhood really wanted to kick GDI in the balls they'd go after New York City a lot harder as taking the city would not only give the Brotherhood access to Wall Street and various financial institutions, but they'd also have captured at least 10 to 30 million GDI citizens. That's a lot of people to ransom off, interrogate, and/or convert into Brotherhood soldiers.**

 **And upon further research on the NYC, the five Boroughs that make up NYC are similar in makeup to the Districts of DC. While I will continue to keep Districts as the core administration unit for DC, possibly in a sequel I will adopt the borough method for DC.**

 **Now I bid you farewell until next chapter.**


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